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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/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761</id><updated>2009-07-18T09:21:09.957-05:00</updated><title type="text">Someone being me</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>269</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/SomeoneBeingMe" type="application/atom+xml" /><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-1865283220229052528</id><published>2009-07-17T11:02:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T11:27:45.582-05:00</updated><title type="text">Toddler-isms</title><content type="html">* Why is it that Mama can coach you over and over to say 1-2-3, A-B-C, etc and you will stubbornly refuse to say it in front of anyone when Mama asks you to? However you will have no problem saying "Oh, s%#*" in front of your grandparents, Sunday school teachers, and Mother's Day out staff after hearing your daddy say it once?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Why is it that you sleep blissfully through the night (for the most part) over the past 2 years but the night your 3 month old brother decides to sleep pretty soundly you decide that is the night to wake up every 1/2 hour and fuss and scream for no reason? I know there was no reason because I checked, multiple times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Why is it that when Mama tells you no more juice because you keep spitting it on the carpet you decide that it is OK to get the dog's water bottle from his crate and try to drink out of that instead. Yuck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Why is it that you never want to play with or kiss the baby until he is sleeping soundly in his crib or the swing? Same goes for crawling all over Mama only when she is feeding the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Why do you ask to watch Elmo and then as soon as Mama gets it on you throw a screaming fit asking to watch robots (Transformers)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Why do you think that it is ok to throw any food on the floor that you deem "yucky"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Why do you scream and cry about being forced to take a bath and the scream and cry when it's time to get out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Why do you wait till Mama is at her wits end to decide to be cute and give Mama kisses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SmCl4LxnMkI/AAAAAAAAAhA/MoNo03rqNvg/s1600-h/IMG_1243.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SmCl4LxnMkI/AAAAAAAAAhA/MoNo03rqNvg/s400/IMG_1243.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359465941223027266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-1865283220229052528?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/1865283220229052528/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=1865283220229052528" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/1865283220229052528" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/1865283220229052528" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/07/toddler-isms.html" title="Toddler-isms" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SmCl4LxnMkI/AAAAAAAAAhA/MoNo03rqNvg/s72-c/IMG_1243.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-495560143126631537</id><published>2009-07-06T12:22:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T12:49:17.302-05:00</updated><title type="text">Happy Thoughts</title><content type="html">After my last doom and gloom post I thought I would follow it up with a post of things that make me happy right now. So here are a few things making my life wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Plastic kiddie pools. Seriously great way to beat the heat and so much fun for your toddler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Tater Tot turned 12 weeks old Saturday. If I was still working I would have had to return to work today as my 12 weeks of FMLA would have been up. Yay for staying home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I discovered the &lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Chococonut-Chip-Cookies/Detail.aspx"&gt;yummiest cookie recipe ever&lt;/a&gt; and have made it 3 times in the past 2 weeks. Half batches, anyways. I'm not a complete pig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Bear is starting to get a little easier. I am starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel with these terrible twos. We still get tantrums and difficulties daily but it is still easier than it was this time last year. Although I haven't started potty training yet so that light might just be a train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Did I mention Tater is 12 weeks old? That means I have been exclusively breastfeeding for 12 weeks. I rock. It was so hard those first few weeks that I really never thought I would make it this far. I'll even admit I somewhat enjoy it except when he wants to eat someplace really public. Then I am still a little shy. Mama needs a few drinks before whipping out her breast in public which is obviously a no-no with the whole breastfeeding thing. Thank God for hooter hiders. I have the &lt;a href="http://nursingcovers-byrosanna.blogspot.com/"&gt;Blue Maxfield&lt;/a&gt; design an I lurve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* My best friend found out recently that she is unexpectedly pregnant and I am so excited. She will be having her baby in mid-January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I am getting my hair cut and highlighted tomorrow. The last time I got this done was 2 months before Tater Tot was born. I am way overdue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Homemade bread. I have been trying out some new recipes and it has made making my own bread fun again. I am really loving &lt;a href="http://www.moneysavingmom.com/money_saving_mom/2008/08/homemade-bread.html"&gt;this recipe&lt;/a&gt; by Money Saving Mom. I also love, love her &lt;a href="http://www.moneysavingmom.com/money_saving_mom/2009/02/homemade-pizza-in-less-than-30-minutes-needs-editing.html"&gt;pizza crust recipe&lt;/a&gt; although I add Italian seasoning and garlic powder for a little umph. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Coconut lime verbena foaming handsoap from Bath and Body works. Hands down my favorite soap for washing my hands in the kitchen. It smells so amazing I want to lick myself in a non-creepy, non-pornographic way. I picked up 3 new bottles on sale at Bath and Bodyworks this weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I got the boys pictures taken 2 weeks ago and they are super cute. I can't wait to hand them out at Tater's christening in two weeks. The only downside was that Bear refused to do a cute picture with Tater. Every time we put them together on the bean bag chair, Bear would start pushing Tater away which would make him cry. We ended up with one semi-decent picture of the two of them and a bunch of cute pictures of them separately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I am making &lt;a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2007/09/cooking_with_my_punk-ass_little_sister_penne_a_la_betsy/"&gt;Penne a la Betsy&lt;/a&gt; for dinner tonight. 'Nuff said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-495560143126631537?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/495560143126631537/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=495560143126631537" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/495560143126631537" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/495560143126631537" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy-thoughts.html" title="Happy Thoughts" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-2145193988695788731</id><published>2009-07-03T09:36:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T10:06:22.317-05:00</updated><title type="text">Ostrich</title><content type="html">I have been hiding out lately. Burying my head in the sand, sticking my fingers in my ears and saying la-la-la. I don't know if it's just postpartum hormones or the godforsaken heat but I am just grouchy. So I bury my head in hopes of my head not exploding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys are good. Well as good as a 2 1/2 year old cooped up in the house from the heat and a 2 month old who sleeps in 2 hour increments can be. They are beautiful and healthy so I am thankful for that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just more stressed about the state of the world in general. It is a 100 million degrees outside. If I hear the name Michael Jackson one more time my head might actually explode (I have pretty much taken to avoiding the news and gossip websites for a few weeks until the furor dies down). I can't even begin to discuss the things our president is doing because there are just not words. I'm fairly sure a sworn enemy of this country could not do more damage in such a short period of time without using any weapons. I will leave it at that since I know many of my readers voted for him and think what he is doing is good. So I am back to my stance of burying my head in the sand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My momma always said if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-2145193988695788731?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/2145193988695788731/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=2145193988695788731" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/2145193988695788731" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/2145193988695788731" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/07/ostrich.html" title="Ostrich" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-3911910824052414658</id><published>2009-06-21T20:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T20:17:16.688-05:00</updated><title type="text">Chunky Monkey</title><content type="html">This past week has been a busy week for those of us here in the slow lane. My sister came into town Monday to see the new baby finally. We had a great lunch and enjoyed getting a chance to catch up. She only lives 2 hours away but as a single parent with 3 kids she doesn't get to get out much. My mom came up the following day and spent the night so she could watch the kiddos while I saw a G.I. specialist about my gallbladder or whatever is causing the episodes I have been having since I had Bear 2 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He scheduled me for &lt;a href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-waste-of-10000-copay.html"&gt;another ultrasound&lt;/a&gt; to see if they can pinpoint the cause of the problem and prescribed some medication that should help if I have another attack. If the ultrasound shows nothing obvious and the medication doesn't help then we will have to look into more tests. Yippee. It was nice to at least be able to meet him and have him take me seriously. I was afraid he would make me wait until I had another episode before he would do anything. I haven't had one since November so I am afraid I might be due for another one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new baby also had a doctor checkup this week. His two month checkup. He weighed 12lb and 14 oz and was 22 1/2 inches long. My husband and I have taken to calling him Chunk (short for Chunky Monkey) or Tater (short for tater tot). He was 25% percentile for height and 75% for weight. Lets hear it for the breast milk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am taking the boys next week to have their pictures taken. I am not looking forward to the actual appointment but it will be nice to have some new professional photos. I haven't been to have any taken since last summer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have also been playing around with the new Flip video camera I got my husband for Father's Day. I didn't want to give it to him until today but he was having a rough day on Thursday so I gave him his present early to cheer him up. We have been playing with it all weekend. Don't worry, all footage is of the children. Its all G rated people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sj7bCwDtFGI/AAAAAAAAAg4/1mWxAeBfMFo/s1600-h/DSC01542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sj7bCwDtFGI/AAAAAAAAAg4/1mWxAeBfMFo/s400/DSC01542.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349954247669388386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Who are you callin' Chunky, lady?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-3911910824052414658?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/3911910824052414658/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=3911910824052414658" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/3911910824052414658" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/3911910824052414658" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/06/chunky-monkey.html" title="Chunky Monkey" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sj7bCwDtFGI/AAAAAAAAAg4/1mWxAeBfMFo/s72-c/DSC01542.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-4883413751096169905</id><published>2009-06-15T10:47:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T10:57:02.046-05:00</updated><title type="text">The boots</title><content type="html">I got some emails and comments regarding the boots in the picture from my previous post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SjZtuVopgDI/AAAAAAAAAgw/j05h-VK274A/s1600-h/DSC01463.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SjZtuVopgDI/AAAAAAAAAgw/j05h-VK274A/s400/DSC01463.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347582250398089266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boots are John Deere Johnny Popper boots from Cavender's Boot City. Yes, I live in Texas. No, I did not buy the boots. My husband's aunt did. Don't worry, Bear got a John Deere t-shirt from her so he didn't feel left out. If you feel your child's life would not be complete without his or her own pair, you can pick them up &lt;a href="http://www.cavenders.com/product.asp?cat=3&amp;dept_id=4060&amp;pf_id=JD0186&amp;cm_vc=productpage"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. They sell them all the way up to kid sizes if you are so inclined to pay that much for them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Chubby baby thighs not included.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-4883413751096169905?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/4883413751096169905/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=4883413751096169905" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/4883413751096169905" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/4883413751096169905" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/06/boots.html" title="The boots" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SjZtuVopgDI/AAAAAAAAAgw/j05h-VK274A/s72-c/DSC01463.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-9049419582475856271</id><published>2009-06-12T17:45:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T17:57:03.130-05:00</updated><title type="text">Typical Housewife</title><content type="html">If you thought posting before the baby came was sporadic at best I am now outdoing myself with laziness. It could be that there is very little going on in my life besides changing diapers and trying to get someone fed, clean or to sleep at any given point in my day. I barely leave the house anymore. My best friend was kind enough to watch the kiddos for us last Saturday night so we could go out to dinner alone for the first time in months. That was only my second time in a restaurant since the baby was born 2 months ago. That must be some kind of record for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta look on the bright side. This has helped with saving money and improving my cooking skills. I discovered the best red beans and rice recipe ever at the &lt;a href="http://homesicktexan.blogspot.com/"&gt;Homesick Texan's&lt;/a&gt; blog. Love her recipes. I have also been trying out quite a few recipes from the &lt;a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/"&gt;Pioneer Woman&lt;/a&gt; lately. And I even made my own &lt;a href="http://www.moneysavingmom.com/money_saving_mom/2009/02/homemade-pizza-in-less-than-30-minutes-needs-editing.html"&gt;pizza crust&lt;/a&gt; from scratch the other day using a recipe from Money Saving Mom. What did people do before blogs? Seriously, I would be totally lost without them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thats my life for now. Cooking, cleaning, diaper changing. Just the life of the typical American Housewife. But I am happy, happier than I can ever remember being at any other point in my life. Doing exactly what I always hoped I would be able to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SjLdE2SACII/AAAAAAAAAgo/E3vGASE1o1g/s1600-h/DSC01451.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SjLdE2SACII/AAAAAAAAAgo/E3vGASE1o1g/s400/DSC01451.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346578783002429570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you blame me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-9049419582475856271?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/9049419582475856271/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=9049419582475856271" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/9049419582475856271" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/9049419582475856271" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/06/typical-housewife.html" title="Typical Housewife" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SjLdE2SACII/AAAAAAAAAgo/E3vGASE1o1g/s72-c/DSC01451.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-7441675259069748978</id><published>2009-05-28T22:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T22:19:21.157-05:00</updated><title type="text">10 years</title><content type="html">Do you know what you were doing 10 years ago tonight? I do. Ten years ago I walked across a temporary stage in the middle of an outdoor football field in a small Texas town and accepted my high school diploma. I thought I was grown up. I had an acceptance letter to the college of my choice and all I had to do was make it through the summer and then come August I would pack up my car and head off to college to start my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The month of May has always been a month of new beginnings for me. May 2000 I finished my first year of college and moved in with my 2 best friends into our first apartment. May 2001 I moved out of that apartment, no longer friends with either girl, and into my very own apartment. May 2002 I studied abroad in Russia and faced my fears about studying in a foreign country with only a basic grasp of the language. May 2003 I accepted a proposal of marriage from my future husband whom I had known for a total of 4 1/2 months. May 2004 I married that man and we started our lives together. May 2005 we celebrated completing our first difficult year of marriage in Florida with my parents. May 2006 we purchased our first home and spent a week getting it ready to move into. May 2007 I lost my job of 3 1/2 years and had to start looking for a new one with a 4 month old baby at home. May 2008 was my first full month as a stay at home mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here it is, May 2009. I am now the proud owner of a bachelor's degree, a homeowner, a wife, a mother of 2 boys and now I think I might actually be a grown up for real. I barely remember that girl from 10 years ago but I am proud of her and how far she has come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-7441675259069748978?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/7441675259069748978/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=7441675259069748978" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/7441675259069748978" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/7441675259069748978" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/05/10-years.html" title="10 years" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-7142420894474945351</id><published>2009-05-20T11:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T11:53:57.190-05:00</updated><title type="text">Flying by...</title><content type="html">It is amazing how fast the time passes when you have two small people entirely dependent on you for their survival. It makes things like blogging, eating, showering etc take a backseat. Just kidding on the showering. I make sure to find time for that. My life has become a serious exercise in proritizing lately. When I am not feeding, changing, refilling sippy cups, dressing, bathing, re-feeding, cleaning up, cooking, doing laundry etc I have to figure out what thing I want to do most with my free time. Most of the time eating or showering wins which means there is no time to blog. I can still read blogs while breastfeeding but my one handed typing sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also really trying to enjoy the baby time this time around. Last time I kept wanting each stage to pass or get here but this time I am just trying to soak up the newborn-ness. This is hard when my two year old is constantly demanding my attention and trying to get into or on everything. He is driving me a little crazy with the whole not listening and getting into everything stage. This stage has been going on for a YEAR with no end in sight. Lucky for him that he is so cute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/ShQ0mmHTRhI/AAAAAAAAAgY/oHNnr6terWE/s1600-h/IMG_0958.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/ShQ0mmHTRhI/AAAAAAAAAgY/oHNnr6terWE/s400/IMG_0958.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337949296011724306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His daddy took him fishing this weekend and it is moments like this that make me realize that the toddler stage won't last forever either. It all goes by so fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/ShQ1dH_JlHI/AAAAAAAAAgg/-_BsS8rvRfs/s1600-h/IMG_0891.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/ShQ1dH_JlHI/AAAAAAAAAgg/-_BsS8rvRfs/s400/IMG_0891.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337950232817276018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-7142420894474945351?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/7142420894474945351/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=7142420894474945351" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/7142420894474945351" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/7142420894474945351" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/05/flying-by.html" title="Flying by..." /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/ShQ0mmHTRhI/AAAAAAAAAgY/oHNnr6terWE/s72-c/IMG_0958.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-3717980543215634583</id><published>2009-05-04T10:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T10:39:27.937-05:00</updated><title type="text">Banished to the attic</title><content type="html">This weekend I finally got to clear out all the maternity clothes that have been hogging my closet space. When I had Bear I just moved them all to the back of the closet knowing that I would probably be pregnant again in the next 2 years. But today they are happily esconced in a Rubbermaid container ready for a trip up to the attic. Even though I don't plan on having more children you never know plus I hate to just get rid of them. If I don't use them again at least I can donate them to a friend whenever someone needs them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so nice to see all my summer clothes hanging up at the front of my closet, organized and ready to wear. I can only fit in one pair of pre-pregnancy jeans but I have hope that I will be able to squeeze in the rest soon. I am only 4 pounds above my pre-pregnancy weight but my shape hasn't bounced quite back yet. Until then I have yoga pants and shorts I can wear. And luckily my feet are back to pre-pregnancy size too so I can wear my new sandals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that worries me is my appetite. I am hungrier now than I have ever been in my life. All I want to do is eat. I hope the breastfeeding will help keep me from gaining back the weight. I thought pregnancy was supposed to make you want to eat for two but breastfeeding is a whole new level of hunger. It doesn't help that I have been perusing the Pioneer Woman's recipes again and I made Pasta alla Vodka last night. So yummy yet so fattening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-3717980543215634583?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/3717980543215634583/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=3717980543215634583" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/3717980543215634583" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/3717980543215634583" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/05/banished-to-attic.html" title="Banished to the attic" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-3614439311495871140</id><published>2009-04-29T09:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T09:11:09.235-05:00</updated><title type="text">The first day of the rest of my parenthood experience</title><content type="html">Today is my first official day on my own with my toddler and my newborn. I set the alarm so I could have time to feed Peanut before I got Bear up. It has worked out pretty well so far this morning. I fed the baby and then got Bear some milk and got him out of bed and changed. While he was eating his Cheerios I made coffee and folded laundry. Peanut entertained himself in the pack and play. Now we are all watching Seasame Street. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still not sure on a nickname for the baby and I am thinking about abandoning the nicknames all together and just using their real names. Right now Piglet would probably be the most appropriate nickname for my newest son as all he does is eat and grunt. This is my first time to breastfeed so it has been really exciting to see him growing and thriving purely off what I produce from my body. I took him for his 2 week checkup on Monday and he already weighs 8 lbs. That is 15 oz over his birth weight. Very Exciting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a challenge getting used to having two especially yesterday when I had to pick up Bear from Mother's Day Out while juggling my newborn. I think going out in public is going to be the most challenging thing for me at first. It's not bad when I have my husband but on my own is scary. We took the boys to the park on Saturday together and that was nice. The breastfeeding has gone better than I could have expected. It hurt quite a bit at first but now I am starting to really enjoy the convenience and the closeness. I won't discuss the sleep right now as I prefer not to jinx myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sfhf0WKmN7I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/9giHxm7mReY/s1600-h/IMG_0814.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sfhf0WKmN7I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/9giHxm7mReY/s400/IMG_0814.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330115511900846002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SfhfqqPGMVI/AAAAAAAAAgI/-C3ELiF4io4/s1600-h/IMG_0817.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SfhfqqPGMVI/AAAAAAAAAgI/-C3ELiF4io4/s400/IMG_0817.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330115345489736018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-3614439311495871140?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/3614439311495871140/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=3614439311495871140" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/3614439311495871140" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/3614439311495871140" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/04/first-day-of-rest-of-my-parenthood.html" title="The first day of the rest of my parenthood experience" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sfhf0WKmN7I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/9giHxm7mReY/s72-c/IMG_0814.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-58860839600384363</id><published>2009-04-25T14:34:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T14:47:38.195-05:00</updated><title type="text">Blessed (and Spoiled)</title><content type="html">There is nothing like a new baby to bring out the best in people. These past two weeks have been nothing short of amazing. (Can you believe it has been two weeks already?) I haven't had a moment alone in the past 2 weeks but in a good way. People have been falling all over themselves to make sure I haven't had to do anything but take care of and love on the new baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom, dad, and grandma have all been taking turns staying with us so that there is always someone here to take care of Bear, run errands and take care of housework. I feel so incredibly blessed. My friends have been bringing meals and baby gifts. My dad is out mowing the lawn as we speak while I take a break between feedings and my husband runs some errands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just been trying to soak up all this time with my family as much as possible because I never get to spend so much time with them on my own. Tuesday will be the last day someone will be here and then I will be on my own. I'll admit I am a wee bit afraid of how it will all work but I know it will somehow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SfNosyAzYLI/AAAAAAAAAgA/FGaZ9r2g-YA/s1600-h/IMG_0786.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SfNosyAzYLI/AAAAAAAAAgA/FGaZ9r2g-YA/s400/IMG_0786.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328717902658101426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SfNosmDzQYI/AAAAAAAAAf4/gf1G71y0URI/s1600-h/IMG_0797.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SfNosmDzQYI/AAAAAAAAAf4/gf1G71y0URI/s400/IMG_0797.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328717899449450882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SfNosH0bN7I/AAAAAAAAAfw/6Ni4joK46J8/s1600-h/IMG_0757.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SfNosH0bN7I/AAAAAAAAAfw/6Ni4joK46J8/s400/IMG_0757.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328717891331897266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-58860839600384363?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/58860839600384363/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=58860839600384363" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/58860839600384363" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/58860839600384363" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/04/blessed-and-spoiled.html" title="Blessed (and Spoiled)" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SfNosyAzYLI/AAAAAAAAAgA/FGaZ9r2g-YA/s72-c/IMG_0786.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-1336530784221066390</id><published>2009-04-16T12:24:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T12:43:53.116-05:00</updated><title type="text" /><content type="html">I know, I know. There is so much to tell you and each day that I don't write the more I feel like I will forget or leave out but yet it is so hard to take the few precious moments I have to myself to update my blog, Facebook, return phone calls, see visitors, etc. Today I got up early and my Mom took me and the baby up to the pediatrician for his weigh in and then over to my OB to get my blood pressure checked and my staples taken out. The baby, who I will call Peanut for now until I can come up with a nickname, is doing well. He eats ALL.THE.TIME and refuses to be put down which makes doing anything else difficult. He has already gained 4 oz since our release from the hospital on Tuesday so all the eating seems to be paying off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am doing pretty well. Tired and sore although not as tired or sore as I was after my first c-section. My blood pressure has been way high since the delivery so they are putting me on blood pressure medication for now. (It was 173/103 at my appt this morning). Plus they put me on antibiotics since my c-section scar was red when they took out my staples. Add in my Motrin, pain killers, and Iron pills and I am tired of taking medications. My weight loss has been good though so I was excited about that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned in my last post that this was a surprise delivery on Saturday morning. Apparently Peanut felt that the 13th wasn't a good birthday and he would prefer the 11th instead. I knew something was up Friday night when I was so nauseated I couldn't lay down or sleep. Then bright and early Saturday morning my water broke. Immediately I started having contractions that were 5 minutes apart. My dad had just left his house but was still 3 hours away so we called everyone we knew to see if someone could take Bear. We got a hold of my husband's uncle and aunt and they agreed to take him for a few hours until my dad got here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we were in the car and on our way my contractions were 3 minutes apart and getting bad. The hospital was 10 minutes away so I told my husband to drop me off at the ER so I could get checked in while he dropped off Bear. Good thing I did that because by the time he got him dropped off and came back to the hospital my contractions were intense and approximately 1 minute apart. They did my blood work and IV and I was in the operating room at just under 2 hours from when my water broke. My doctor wasn't on call but he happened to be at the hospital checking on another patient so he stayed and delivered Peanut. The c-section wasn't bad but afterwards I shook in the recovery room for about 3 hours. I didn't have any shaking like that after my last c-section. It was awful and my temperature was 95.2. Brrrr... Once they got me in my room though I was doing better. I was up and walking around the next day with minimal problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home Tuesday afternoon and it is so good to be home. Bear is doing awesome with his baby brother. He has been giving him lots of kisses and has been very sweet with him. That was a big relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that gets you pretty well caught up. Here are a few more pictures to tide you over until I get time to write again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sedt3ScfIbI/AAAAAAAAAfo/cctW2Gt2pcA/s1600-h/IMG_0692.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sedt3ScfIbI/AAAAAAAAAfo/cctW2Gt2pcA/s400/IMG_0692.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325345881000452530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sedtj8v8z-I/AAAAAAAAAfg/MFlM5xpdLwQ/s1600-h/IMG_0731.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sedtj8v8z-I/AAAAAAAAAfg/MFlM5xpdLwQ/s400/IMG_0731.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325345548758994914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-1336530784221066390?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/1336530784221066390/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=1336530784221066390" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/1336530784221066390" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/1336530784221066390" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-know-i-know.html" title="" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Sedt3ScfIbI/AAAAAAAAAfo/cctW2Gt2pcA/s72-c/IMG_0692.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-5997341311305805738</id><published>2009-04-14T21:22:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T21:38:47.917-05:00</updated><title type="text">We're Home!</title><content type="html">Baby boy made a surprise appearance on Saturday morning at 9:50 a.m. More details to come later but I just wanted to let everyone know everything is OK and we are home safely. Thank you all for your prayers and well wishes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SeVFQ6Ua6lI/AAAAAAAAAfY/xox0MzExO1k/s1600-h/IMG_0593.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SeVFQ6Ua6lI/AAAAAAAAAfY/xox0MzExO1k/s400/IMG_0593.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324738291270609490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-5997341311305805738?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/5997341311305805738/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=5997341311305805738" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/5997341311305805738" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/5997341311305805738" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/04/were-home.html" title="We're Home!" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/SeVFQ6Ua6lI/AAAAAAAAAfY/xox0MzExO1k/s72-c/IMG_0593.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-4471570377801251050</id><published>2009-04-10T22:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T22:13:11.467-05:00</updated><title type="text">Like a kid in a candy shop</title><content type="html">So my new iPod nano arrived today. Finally. The UPS man didn't come until 5 and I was getting worried. I really wanted to get all my songs uploaded this weekend so it can come to the hospital with me on Monday. I am officially in love. Although I am certain I am going to smush it or lose it. This thing is seriously small.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been downloading songs and trying to get my cds into iTunes. It is a lot of work. And those downloads add up quick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may need an intervention.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-4471570377801251050?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/4471570377801251050/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=4471570377801251050" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/4471570377801251050" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/4471570377801251050" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/04/like-kid-in-candy-shop.html" title="Like a kid in a candy shop" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-4874760036356034716</id><published>2009-04-08T11:55:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T12:08:52.433-05:00</updated><title type="text">Holy crap, 5 more days?</title><content type="html">In case y'all were counting we are now a mere five days away from D day. Crazy. I am so, so ready to be done with this pregnancy thing but still really nervous about the whole getting cut open while naked in front of a room full of strangers with a needle in my back thing. In addition to all my pregnancy discomforts I have now added allergies to my list of health woes. I woke up all stuffy, itchy, yucky last night and it has morphed into runny nose/headache/yucky feeling today. I just pray it gets better before my surgery on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Bear is all nicely recovered from his croup. Amen. Whatever those doctors at the ER gave him really worked. Plus the 5 days of steroids that he finished up yesterday. So I do have his health to be thankful for. Although is it awful to say that I kind of miss the sluggish/cuddly behavior that comes from a sick 2 year old versus the bouncing off the walls craziness that I have now? I love him being healthy but it was nice to have his energy down a notch for a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also excited to report that I got my first baby gift for me last night from my husband. I think the mama is definitely overlooked in the whole gift giving department when it comes to giving birth. Seriously, the baby only needs so many onesies. I need a medal or something shiny for getting gutted like a fish dontcha think? Anyways, he bought me a shiny new iPod nano in green. I am so excited. I could possibly be the last person on Earth (or at least in America) under 65 without one. There have always just been too many other things to spend money on like clothes, pedicures, GPSs, my camera, etc. I am open to suggestions on songs I should upload onto it when it arrives from Amazon on Friday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-4874760036356034716?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/4874760036356034716/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=4874760036356034716" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/4874760036356034716" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/4874760036356034716" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/04/holy-crap-5-more-days.html" title="Holy crap, 5 more days?" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-3951797141053060018</id><published>2009-04-03T11:43:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T12:01:32.286-05:00</updated><title type="text">Busy, Busy</title><content type="html">Has it already been a week since my last post? This week has been a little crazy. My husband was sick all weekend with some cold or allergy thing so we were pretty limited on what we did all weekend as he wasn't up for much. I had my regular doctor appointment on Wednesday and my blood pressure has been going up. The doctor checked it three times at my appointment and asked me to come back today to have it checked again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was supposed to be my easy day but Bear started running a fever and having chills while we were out at lunch with my best friend. We took him home and gave him Motrin before his nap hoping it was just a little virus. I checked on him several times during his nap and his fever had broken so I thought he was doing better. She left around 3:30 and I got him up around 4. When I got him up I immediately noticed the fever was back along with wheezing. I gave him a breathing treatment with our nebulizer and it did nothing for him. He started wheezing really badly and couldn't seem to cough or really talk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I threw him in the car and off to Urgent care we went. I called my husband on the way and he was on his way home and he said he would meet me up there. He got there before me and they told him it was a 2 hour wait. He explained that we had a 2 year old who couldn't breathe and we weren't waiting 2 hours. As soon as I got there they took him right back and grabbed a doctor. The doctor was really concerned with his breathing and told us we needed to go to the hospital. She called the ER and told them we were on our way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we got to the ER and they did two more breathing treatments with him and gave him steroids which helped a lot. Apparently has has a bad case of croup. What was scary was how fast it came on and how quickly it got severe. Luckily they saw him quickly and we were on our way home after about 2 1/2 hrs at the ER. He is still breathing rough and coughing today but nothing as severe as what I saw yesterday. They gave us a prescription for steroids and said this should be cleared up in a week or less. I scheduled an appointment for him to have a checkup with his regular doctor next Tuesday to make sure he is all better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my friend came back over and watched him so I could go and have my blood pressure checked again. It is still high but not as high as it was Wednesday. The nurse wants me to come back at 3 today and have it checked again. Ugh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week is going to be crazy with doctor's appointments for me and Bear, a vet appointment for Rocky, the Pest control guy coming for our quarterly spraying and last minute preparations for the baby. Then the following Monday is c-section day. The doctor said I should expect to be released that Thursday afternoon, April 16th. Luckily my nesting has been in such high gear that I really don't have a lot of baby prep work left. It will mainly just be getting the house ready for guests to be here while I am in the hospital. It's hard not to be stressed out right now but I am also really excited that in 10 days (or less) I will be holding my newest baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-3951797141053060018?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/3951797141053060018/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=3951797141053060018" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/3951797141053060018" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/3951797141053060018" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/04/busy-busy.html" title="Busy, Busy" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-5652487848264181692</id><published>2009-03-27T17:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T17:28:27.048-05:00</updated><title type="text">Good times</title><content type="html">I love days that start out with the potential to be really sucky but actually end up being pretty good. I slept terribly last night. No big surprise since my back always hurts at night and I could not fall asleep for the life of me. Anyways, at around 7ish this morning I hear Bear up and talking to himself. Ugh. I was really hoping he would sleep until at least 8 or so giving me a chance to rest a little longer. But on the plus side my husband was still home, normally he leaves at 6:30, so he went in to check on Bear. This had the potential to be a very good thing or a very bad thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing if Bear sees Dada and settles down and goes back to sleep or very bad if he sees Dada and freaks out because Dada isn't going to get him up to play with him. Guess which happened this morning? Oh and of course he soaked through his diaper and all over the sheets so he has to get up. So as I am laying in bed all I hear is a very angry toddler over the monitor. I heave myself out of bed and put in my contacts. Luckily my husband got Bear all cleaned up and the bed stripped before I got my not happy self in there. He stuck around long enough for me to feed Bear and get him in a better mood so he wasn't all upset when my husband left for work around 8. 1st crisis averted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I look outside and it is gray, foggy, humid, yucky. So much for getting Bear out of the house today. We have been trapped inside for days due to yucky rainy weather that has made everything muddy. Just as I was resigning myself to another day of trying to wrangle a toddler indoors using nothing but toys he is already bored with and my imagination, my best friend called and wanted to come over. Cool. Crisis 2 averted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She comes over and helps me entertain Bear for awhile. Another one of our friends called and suggested we all go out to lunch. We decide to meet up at the food court at the mall so Bear can play with her daughter in the play area there. Yay! So we had a lovely lunch of Chick-fil-a and the kiddos played at the play area for awhile. After that we got packed up and ready to go so the kiddos could get home for naptime. Then we heard the rain start thundering down on the roof and realized we were trapped in the mall until the storm subsided. Oh darn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to pick up an adorable swimsuit and sandals for Bear at Gymboree on sale and got in some good window shopping for me. We also treated ourselves to cookies from the Nestle Toll House place. Yum! By the time we got done the rain had stopped and we headed back to the house. Bear even fell asleep in the car on the way back meaning I was able to put him right down when I got home with no fuss. My friend took off and I got an 1 1/2 hour nap in before Bear got back up. Now my hubby is on his way home and the sun has even come out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-5652487848264181692?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/5652487848264181692/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=5652487848264181692" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/5652487848264181692" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/5652487848264181692" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-times.html" title="Good times" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-3619569816960037692</id><published>2009-03-24T21:43:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T21:57:19.332-05:00</updated><title type="text">Still here.</title><content type="html">I promise I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, given birth, or anything dramatic. I've just been kind of blah. I'm tired of writing about pregnancy and yet I've been thinking about little else for the past few weeks, months. This last month is hard y'all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead of whining about my big pregnant self I thought I would share a picture of my other darling child who is not kicking me in the ribs right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/ScmcCbtBNaI/AAAAAAAAAfI/1C7Vu2kZzL8/s1600-h/DSC01399.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/ScmcCbtBNaI/AAAAAAAAAfI/1C7Vu2kZzL8/s400/DSC01399.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316952400697832866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got his hair cut last week and I think it makes him look more grown up. Every day he moves farther and farther out from babyhood. It makes me so sad but yet so proud. His new thing lately is "helping" us. If I am dusting then he is grabbing a towel and following along. Same goes for sweeping and vacuuming. It is so adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Scmc_qrnCgI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/9RXh_ncpM4M/s1600-h/DSC01413.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Scmc_qrnCgI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/9RXh_ncpM4M/s400/DSC01413.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316953452690475522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-3619569816960037692?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/3619569816960037692/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=3619569816960037692" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/3619569816960037692" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/3619569816960037692" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/03/still-here.html" title="Still here." /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/ScmcCbtBNaI/AAAAAAAAAfI/1C7Vu2kZzL8/s72-c/DSC01399.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-7249464961153574342</id><published>2009-03-17T00:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T00:43:38.549-05:00</updated><title type="text">Sleepless in Texas</title><content type="html">It is 12:34 a.m. and I can hear my husband snoring in the next room and my son talking to himself in his crib. I am up in my recliner in the living room unable to sleep. I desperately want to try to enjoy this last month of pregnancy before my world gets turned upside down but it is hard to do that when I haven't had a decent nights sleep in I don't know how long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I got off easy in my last pregnancy skipping those last 7 1/2 weeks of my 3rd trimester although I would gladly have traded all those nights sleep for having my baby not have to stay in the NICU. It does seem to be nature's cruel joke to deprive expectant mothers of decent sleep for weeks or months before the arrival of a new baby. As if the sleepless nights after the baby gets here aren't enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides the backaches, rib pain, non-stop peeing, restless legs and general uncomfortableness this also happens to be the baby's most active time of the day. Throw in some baby hiccups and you have one tired mommy. I know it is all worth it in the end and someday this will be a nice distant fuzzy memory but tonight I just needed to vent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-7249464961153574342?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/7249464961153574342/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=7249464961153574342" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/7249464961153574342" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/7249464961153574342" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/03/sleepless-in-texas.html" title="Sleepless in Texas" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-8808474442092347821</id><published>2009-03-13T20:37:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T20:55:01.317-05:00</updated><title type="text">C-section scheduled? Check.</title><content type="html">Ladies and Gentlemen, We have a due date scheduled. The doctor's office called and confirmed I am scheduled for a c-section April 13th, a scant 1 month from today. Luckily, NOT a Friday the 13th. This is all assuming that I don't go into labor before then. But it is exciting either way because at least I have a for sure date to know I will meet my 2nd son by. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In some ways I am more than ready and feel like I have been pregnant forever but in others I can't believe my pregnancy is almost over. I know my body is ready for a break. I already feel like I am busting at the seams and any day a rib is going to pop out and impale me. Mentally I am not as prepared but how can you ever really be ready  for a newborn and a toddler? I know I will just have to take it one day at a time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get a box of receiving blankets, onesies, and sleepers today in the mail from my husband's step-sister. Nothing like seeing tiny little footie sleepers with dinosaurs on them to get you all excited about meeting your new baby. Yay for baby presents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-8808474442092347821?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/8808474442092347821/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=8808474442092347821" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/8808474442092347821" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/8808474442092347821" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/03/c-sectiion-scheduled-check.html" title="C-section scheduled? Check." /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-8691253247694129300</id><published>2009-03-02T22:03:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T22:16:52.355-06:00</updated><title type="text">T minus 7 weeks</title><content type="html">As I reflect on these last few magical weeks of pregnancy (snort) I think the thing I am most looking forward to beyond actually meeting my preshus baby is that once the baby comes I will have help. When you are pregnant you have people telling you to take it easy but its not like anyone can be like, "Here I'll take the baby for awhile you go have a few drinks with the girls". Nor do I see anyone volunteering to take the baby so I can sleep on my stomach uninterrupted for a 3 hour stretch without a pee break or a leg cramp. Yes I will be recovering from a c-section, going through the breastfeeding woes, and dealing with all the postpartum hormones but by God I will have a mother here telling me she will take the baby for awhile so I can go take a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ribs, back, and feet hurt. I am tired of eating mini meals because my stomach is located 2 inches below my throat. I want to be able to roll over in bed easily and even sleep on my stomach. I'm so over waddling and pulling up my pants every two seconds because no matter how big you get your maternity pants will never stay up. I'm sick of nosebleeds especially the 3 am ones as if the sleep isn't interrupted enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I should be enjoying these last few weeks before my life is flipped upside down but it would be nice if I could stick my stomach in a bouncy seat for a few minutes and do something unencumbered. I am ready to meet this second son of mine. I want him here safely and healthy and in my arms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-8691253247694129300?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/8691253247694129300/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=8691253247694129300" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/8691253247694129300" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/8691253247694129300" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/03/t-minus-7-weeks.html" title="T minus 7 weeks" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-1395401810099388687</id><published>2009-02-27T20:40:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T20:44:51.142-06:00</updated><title type="text">A celebratory belly shot</title><content type="html">Since I am now 32 weeks 3 days today I thought I would celebrate with a belly picture. My water broke with Bear right at this point so today felt kind of special. I also celebrated with a Ben and Jerry's sundae after dinner so that also factors into the belly size in the photo.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Saik9yCG-GI/AAAAAAAAAe8/t9U4r4b_OnY/s1600-h/DSC01393.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Saik9yCG-GI/AAAAAAAAAe8/t9U4r4b_OnY/s400/DSC01393.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307673542165723234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-1395401810099388687?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/1395401810099388687/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=1395401810099388687" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/1395401810099388687" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/1395401810099388687" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/02/celebratory-belly-shot.html" title="A celebratory belly shot" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LQ7EaYiZNcs/Saik9yCG-GI/AAAAAAAAAe8/t9U4r4b_OnY/s72-c/DSC01393.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-6509235792493722569</id><published>2009-02-23T11:32:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T11:47:48.289-06:00</updated><title type="text">Week 32 - Commence Nesting</title><content type="html">I will officially be 32 weeks tomorrow. Just 3 days shy of when my water broke with Bear. Through out this pregnancy I have been doing some of the usual nesting. We set up Bear's new big boy room to free up the nursery, cleaned out the linen closets, and organized the medicine shelf in the bathroom closet to make sure we have all our baby nose suckers and themometers in order. However in the past few weeks the nesting has kicked it up a notch. I have organized the drawer with my party supplies, cleaned and organized the pantry, scrubbed and organized the lazy susan shelf with my pots and pans, cleaned and organized the cabinet with all the sippy cups and Rubbermaid containers, organized under the bathroom and kitchen sinks, cleaned out the fridge, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we even started pulling down some of the baby things from the attic like the bassinet, newborn - 3 month clothes, bouncy seat, and the carseat. I washed all the clothes and blankets and folded them all and put them in the basket below the bassinet. I just feel like there is so much to do and I am so afraid of ending up in the same predicament as last time where I am recovering from a c-section and trying to wash baby clothes, set up a nursery and get my house ready to bring him home. I know the chances of another preemie baby are low but I think the added pressure of having a toddler is sending me into overdrive. I know that people will be coming and staying in my house to help take care of Bear while I am in the hospital and the first few weeks home with the baby. God forbid my mom see expired medicine on the shelf or not be able to find the lid to a pot in the kitchen due to my lack of organization. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to feel reasonably prepared. However, I know when I do get home from the hospital there will still be messes and things I forgot to get. I didn't really get into the whole nesting phase with my last pregnancy so I hope this is all just hormones and I will relax some when the baby gets here since I know keeping an organized and immaculate house with a toddler, new baby and a husband is an exercise in futility.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-6509235792493722569?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/6509235792493722569/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=6509235792493722569" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/6509235792493722569" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/6509235792493722569" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/02/week-32-commence-nesting.html" title="Week 32 - Commence Nesting" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-1898253497674314885</id><published>2009-02-20T20:04:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T20:37:50.399-06:00</updated><title type="text">A Meme about Us</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I am desperate to blog about something besides pregnancy and my toddler so I totally stole this meme from Jenny at &lt;a href="http://www.shelikespurple.com/shelikespurple/"&gt;She Likes Purple&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are your middle names?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mine is Rae and my hubby's is Glen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long have you been together?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since January 2003. It was the closest thing to love at first sight that I have ever experienced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long did you know each other before you started dating?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met January 8, 2003 and immediately hit it off. He invited me to go get ice cream and while we were out he asked me to go out on a date that weekend. 2 days later we had our first date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who asked whom out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How old are each of you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is 34 and I am 28. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whose siblings do you see the most?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are about even on this. We aren't particularly close with either of our siblings but see them occasionally since they don't live too far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably the 16 days Bear spent in the NICU after he was born. Although we have each been laid off unexpectedly and those times were scary and tough too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you go to the same school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope. I met him 2 weeks after I graduated from college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you from the same home town?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I was born in a suburb of Dallas and he was born outside of Houston. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is smarter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was better at school but he has lots of life and work experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is the most sensitive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am, especially with all these crazy pregnancy hormones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do you eat out most as a couple? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We eat a lot of Mexican food (my top choice) and BBQ (his top choice).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cancun, Mexico for our honeymoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who has the craziest exes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd say we are probably even on this one. We have actually discussed setting up a dating service to hook up our crazy exes who seem to be perfect matches. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who has the worst temper?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He does. I am the blow up and get over it type where he is the hold a grudge till the day he dies type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who does the cooking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do. He cooked for me first but I have been doing it ever since. Although he does handle all the grilling duties. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is the neat-freak?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like everything picked up and put away where he is more anal about the actual cleaning part. So he doesn't care about leaving socks on the floor and stuff spread out all over the counter but will freak out about crumbs on the floor. I can deal with the crumbs on the floor but those damn socks will drive me crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is more stubborn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who hogs the bed? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither. I am extremely territorial about my half of the bed and will kick and push to keep him off my side during the night but I don't invade his territory. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who wakes up earlier?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He does. He usually leaves the house by 6-6:30 a.m. sometimes earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where was your first date? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out to dinner at Cheddar's and then back to his place to watch old movies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is more jealous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly this isn't too much of an issue for us. I used to be jealous but marriage has mellowed me out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long did it take to get serious? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not long. We met in January, he told me he loved me in February, moved in with me in March, and proposed in May. We were married the following May. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who eats more? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He does. Although being pregnant I can give him a run for his money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who does the laundry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do since I stay home full time. We used to split the duties when I worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who’s better with the computer? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm better with software while he is better at figuring out the hardware.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who drives when you are together?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He does. I hate driving and he always complains when I drive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-1898253497674314885?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/1898253497674314885/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=1898253497674314885" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/1898253497674314885" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/1898253497674314885" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/02/meme-about-us.html" title="A Meme about Us" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4128356272633778761.post-6396205646478775543</id><published>2009-02-15T21:29:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T21:42:03.627-06:00</updated><title type="text" /><content type="html">Another week down. Every day I'm creeping just a little closer to meeting my new boy and fitting into my old clothes. I can't wait. This weekend we made our last pre-baby trip out of town. Now that I am 2 weeks away from where I was when I had Bear I've decided to stick close to home, and my doctor, until he arrives. We made a quick trip down to see my parents in Houston and had a good time. It was nice to get out of town with the hubby even if it was just for the night. My parents watched Bear Saturday for a little bit so my husband and I could have a lovely lunch outdoors at a nice little Italian joint on the lake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my Mom and I did some grocery shopping for dinner and picked up steaks for the guys to grill for dinner. My Mom also bought us some chocolate covered strawberries, yum! My stepdad and I took some time before dinner to do my taxes. I am so relieved to have those taken care of before the baby comes. I could have done them myself but it is nice to have someone help me with a few of my questions just to make sure I don't miss something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home this afternoon and Bear has been being a bit of a bear. He never sleeps well when we travel so we put him to bed 45 minutes early tonight. He kept me up from 3:30 - 5:30 a.m. this morning as if my sleep isn't bad enough with the backaches, peeing, and hip pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I entertained myself this weekend by reading &lt;a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/"&gt;The Pioneer Woman's &lt;/a&gt;love story. I had heard about it for awhile but hadn't actually read it yet. It was a great story to read around Valentine's Day. I am eagerly awaiting her next installment. I have also been tackling a few of her recipes lately. I did the French Onion soup Friday night and it was good but it would have been better if I had a dutch oven so I could have properly caramelized my onions. I'll have to add one of those to my wish list of kitchen gadgets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4128356272633778761-6396205646478775543?l=someonebeingme.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/feeds/6396205646478775543/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4128356272633778761&amp;postID=6396205646478775543" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/6396205646478775543" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4128356272633778761/posts/default/6396205646478775543" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://someonebeingme.blogspot.com/2009/02/another-week-down.html" title="" /><author><name>Someone Being Me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984828094257765105</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="14670575039913804241" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry></feed>
