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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cHSHc8eSp7ImA9WhRaFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357</id><updated>2012-02-16T22:23:59.971-05:00</updated><category term="Trips" /><category term="WOW" /><category term="But I want the baby to come out all fat" /><category term="Nursery Ideas" /><category term="Things I Love (Right Now)" /><category term="Fashionista" /><category term="Shamrock" /><category term="Love Letters" /><category term="Randy" /><category term="Manic Mondays" /><category term="Tummy Time" /><category term="Smiles" /><category term="Keagan and Daddy" /><category term="Reflections" /><category term="Election 2008" /><category term="Starbucks is Getting Deep" /><category term="Lasagna" /><category term="Couple Time" /><category term="What have we gotten ourselves into" /><category term="Jumping Jax Designs" /><category term="Shameless Gushing" /><category term="Heir to Blair" /><category term="Baby" /><category term="Camera" /><category term="Halloween" /><category term="Our Journey" /><category term="Baby It's Cold Outside" /><category term="Belly Bump Update" /><category term="The Eating Rules" /><category term="Mommy of the Year" /><category term="Writers Workshop" /><category term="Easter 2009" /><category term="Blog Reveal" /><category term="What the Blog" /><category term="The Many Thoughts of a Reader" /><category term="One of Those Days" /><category term="Baby Weight Be Gone" /><category term="The Paro Post" /><category term="TAG" /><category term="Guest Blogging" /><category term="Guest Blogger" /><category term="Gee Thanks" /><category term="Thankful" /><category term="New Blog" /><category term="25Design" /><category term="TommeeTippee" /><category term="Top Ten Tuesday" /><category term="It Takes All Kinds" /><category term="Christmas" /><category term="Meal Time With Keagan" /><category term="30 Day Shred" /><category term="javascript:void(0)" /><category term="Birthday" /><category term="Vacation" /><category term="Chicken" /><category term="Prayer" /><category term="Laughter" /><category term="Gussy" /><category term="Parenthood" /><category term="Talking" /><category term="Week by Week" /><category term="Drat" /><category term="Trunk Show" /><category term="Keagan and Mommy" /><category term="Snow" /><category term="Bucket List" /><category term="Baby Hats" /><category term="The Things We Put Our Kids Through" /><category term="Easter" /><category term="Recipes" /><category term="Cookies" /><category term="Keagan" /><category term="Charmingly Chandler" /><category term="Our Travels" /><category term="Summer" /><category term="Introduction" /><category term="lia sophia" /><category term="Helping" /><category term="Post Baby" /><category term="Baby Crack" /><category term="workout" /><category term="Family" /><category term="Sluiter Nation" /><category term="SQUEE" /><category term="Random Musings" /><category term="Photos" /><category term="Pinterest Addiction" /><category term="Grand ReOpening" /><category term="This is the song that never ends" /><category term="Desserts" /><category term="Damn Babies With Hair" /><category term="Our friends are getting married" /><category term="Funny Ass Shirts" /><category term="Horoscopes" /><category term="Signs I'm Getting Old" /><category term="Thankful Thursday" /><category term="EcoMom" /><category term="Waking Up Williams" /><category term="Jumping off the Bridge" /><category term="The Ish Blog" /><category term="BOTB" /><category term="Milestones" /><category term="You Know You're A Parent When" /><category term="Making Strides" /><category term="Spring" /><category term="toddler" /><category term="Winner" /><category term="Menu Monday" /><category term="Chocolate" /><category term="Not Super Just Mom" /><category term="Vanity - one of the Seven Deadly Sins Right?" /><category term="365 Project" /><category term="Gloating" /><category term="Skittles" /><category term="Musings" /><category term="Holiday" /><category term="just...WOW" /><category term="Thirty-One Gifts" /><category term="Follow Friday" /><category term="Wordless Wednesday" /><category term="YouTube" /><category term="Gram" /><category term="Dancing Fool" /><category term="Randy; The Neverending House Projects" /><category term="Happy St. Patty's Day" /><category term="Blogging" /><category term="This is my life" /><category term="Things I'll Never" /><category term="Post Cards From Oblivion" /><category term="Fall Fashion" /><category term="Winter Wonderland" /><category term="The Sippy Cup Mom" /><category term="Crying It Out" /><category term="giveaway" /><category term="CSN" /><category term="Postpartum" /><category term="Top Two Tuesday" /><category term="Anniversary" /><category term="Friday Flashbacks" /><category term="Remember" /><category term="Fall" /><category term="Lily and Bird" /><category term="Mother's Day" /><title>Taking It One Step at a Time</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>368</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/TakingItOneStepAtATime" /><feedburner:info uri="takingitonestepatatime" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:browserFriendly></feedburner:browserFriendly><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEGQHsyfip7ImA9WhdXF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-6264156212962736227</id><published>2011-08-31T05:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T05:40:21.596-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-31T05:40:21.596-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Couple Time" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Randy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Musings" /><title>The First Kiss</title><content type="html">Yesterday while driving home I was struck with a memory or something that I hadn't thought of in a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Randy and I met my sophomore year of college.&amp;nbsp; I was full out having fun with my girlfriends, not a care in the world other than deciding who was going to be our designated driver for the evening.&amp;nbsp; When he called me to ask me to a party a friend of his was throwing, I wasn't really expecting it to be more than a fun evening, a couple of laughs and some smooching.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then it all changed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I still see it perfectly.&amp;nbsp; We were sitting at the tall table over in the corner.&amp;nbsp; He looked me right in the eyes, leaned in and kissed me so gently.&amp;nbsp; The room around us disappeared, the DJ was gone, there was no one else in the world except for he and I.&amp;nbsp; To be as cliched as possible, the world stopped and fireworks went off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The first kiss is something we all look forward to.&amp;nbsp; It is so highly anticipated that more often than not it falls flat, leaves us wondering what went wrong.&amp;nbsp; Not ours though.&amp;nbsp; Our first kiss left me wanting more.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sitting in traffic on my way home, reliving this moment, I was once again sitting at that tall table.&amp;nbsp; I was feeling the rapid fire emotions of happiness, amazement, terror and joy.&amp;nbsp; I was reminded of one of the many reasons why we are together and why we love each other so very much.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't know what sparked that memory...but I'm so glad I have it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-6264156212962736227?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/6264156212962736227/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=6264156212962736227" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/6264156212962736227?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/6264156212962736227?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/08/first-kiss.html" title="The First Kiss" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUCSHk4eyp7ImA9WhdXFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-8004118917201283212</id><published>2011-08-30T05:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T05:57:49.733-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-30T05:57:49.733-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenthood" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Keagan" /><title>One</title><content type="html">Many of you that know me are aware that Randy and I have always said we were a "one and done" family.&amp;nbsp; When we &lt;span id="goog_465528400"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;found out I was pregnant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_465528401"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; with Keagan we staunchly reported that this was it, unless there are twins in there, this is the only child we will have.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As several of my friends can attest, my resolve weakens every now and then.&amp;nbsp; Like when a bottle (or 3) of pinot grigio is involved.&amp;nbsp; Or we meet a new little bundle that our friends have blessed the world with.&amp;nbsp; Or on a Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My most recent weakening occurred last week when a dear friend of mine &lt;a href="http://notsuperjustmom.com/2011/08/funny-i-dont-remember-packing-that/" style="color: purple;"&gt;announced she was pregnant&lt;/a&gt; with her second child.&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href="http://notsuperjustmom.com/" style="color: purple;"&gt;Miranda&lt;/a&gt; and I were pregnant together the first time.&amp;nbsp; We compared notes on our exhaustion, our ridiculous hunger pains and of course our long-lost love of wine.&amp;nbsp; We welcomed our sons just a few weeks apart from one another (both giving birth to toddlers nonetheless).&amp;nbsp; We've gone through the infant stages, the "OMGWTFAMISUPPOSEDTODOHEWON'TSLEEP" stages, the toddler stages.&amp;nbsp; Together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seeing that my friend, a woman that I've never "met" but that I've shared so much with was pregnant brought tears to my eyes and gave me goosebumps.&amp;nbsp; I was so happy, so elated for her.&amp;nbsp; Enter the resolve weakening, stage left.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I started thinking about another child in our lives.&amp;nbsp; A little brother or sister for our little man.&amp;nbsp; Another little son or daughter in our family.&amp;nbsp; It was a nice picture...a really nice picture.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know that we will probably never have another child.&amp;nbsp; Not because we don't have enough love for another child.&amp;nbsp; Not because we couldn't afford another child (though to convince Randy of that may be another story).&amp;nbsp; And most days I'm ok with that.&amp;nbsp; But that picture in my head?&amp;nbsp; It's a good one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then my son comes around the corner, just looking to give me a hug.&amp;nbsp; Or runs up to me before dropping him off at day care demanding "one more kiss."&amp;nbsp; Or says in his little man voice "I lub you."&amp;nbsp; It makes me realize, yes, another child in our life would be nice...but the one I have now?&amp;nbsp; He's pretty darn perfect.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-8004118917201283212?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/8004118917201283212/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=8004118917201283212" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/8004118917201283212?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/8004118917201283212?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/08/one.html" title="One" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04DRnc7fip7ImA9WhdXFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-2345323611389538674</id><published>2011-08-29T05:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T05:59:37.906-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-29T05:59:37.906-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fall" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Recipes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pinterest Addiction" /><title>Lasagna Soup</title><content type="html">Yes, I realize that it is still officially Summer.  But what you have to realize that since my new found love of &lt;a href="http://pinterest.com/" style="color: orange;"&gt;Pinterest&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; Fall is all I have been able to think about {and boots, and &lt;a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/137656192/" style="color: orange;"&gt;beautiful orange trench coats&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/137493076/" style="color: orange;"&gt;caramel frappucino cupcakes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;..}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wait, where was I?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh yeah, soup.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I'm perusing my new all-time favorite site In.The.World. when I stumble across this &lt;a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/137059795/" style="color: orange;"&gt;yummy deliciousness&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dude.  Cheesy yumminess?  Fire roasted tomatoes?  Yes please.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Imagine my happiness when our Sunday forecast was pretty close to perfection for giving this &lt;a href="http://www.afarmgirlsdabbles.com/2011/03/24/lasagna-soup/" style="color: orange;"&gt;recipe&lt;/a&gt; a try.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I did modify it a bit from the &lt;a href="http://www.afarmgirlsdabbles.com/2011/03/24/lasagna-soup/" style="color: orange;"&gt;original&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;but it was an all around WOW at our table.  I hope you enjoy it too!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lasagna Soup&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Soup:&lt;br /&gt;
2 tsp. olive oil&lt;br /&gt;
1-1/2 lbs. Italian sausage&lt;br /&gt;
3 c. chopped onions&lt;br /&gt;
4 garlic cloves, minced&lt;br /&gt;
2 tsp. dried oregano&lt;br /&gt;
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes&lt;br /&gt;
2 T. tomato paste&lt;br /&gt;
1 14-oz. can fire roasted diced tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;
1 14-oz. can garlic and onion dice tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;
2 bay leaves&lt;br /&gt;
6 c. chicken stock (I used bouillon)&lt;br /&gt;
8 oz. bowtie pasta  (or Keagan was calling them - the butterflies)&lt;br /&gt;
1/2 c. finely chopped fresh basil leaves&lt;br /&gt;
salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cheesy yumminess:&lt;br /&gt;
8 oz. ricotta&lt;br /&gt;
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese&lt;br /&gt;
1/4 tsp. salt&lt;br /&gt;
pinch of freshly ground pepper&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2 c. shredded mozzarella cheese&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat.  Add garlic and let simmer for 30 seconds or until fragrant.  Add onion and cook until soft, about 4 minutes. Add sausage, and brown for about 5 minutes. Add oregano and red pepper flakes, cook for 1 minute. Add tomato paste and stir well to incorporate. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, or until the tomato paste turns a rusty brown color.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In your crockpot add chicken stock, diced tomatoes, bay leaves, stir to combine. Stir in basil and season to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once sausage is done, drain and add to crockpot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cook on high for 3 hours.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the meantime, prepare the cheesy yumminess.  In a small bowl, combine the ricotta, Parmesan, salt, and pepper.  Refrigerate until ready to eat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
About 10 minutes before dinner time, boil water and cook your pasta to al dente.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To serve, place a dollop of the cheesy yum in each soup bowl, sprinkle some of the mozzarella on top, add your pasta and ladle the hot soup over the cheese.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Serve with crusty Italian bread.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-2345323611389538674?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/2345323611389538674/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=2345323611389538674" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/2345323611389538674?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/2345323611389538674?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/08/lasagna-soup.html" title="Lasagna Soup" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08HRH8-eSp7ImA9WhdQFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-2011546143021610184</id><published>2011-08-16T06:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T06:17:15.151-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-16T06:17:15.151-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Making Strides" /><title>A World With More Birthdays</title><content type="html">A few weeks ago I had a scare.&amp;nbsp; A scare that every woman fears, a scare that every woman prays never happens to her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Luckily for me this scare was benign.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But for many women, this fear is real, this threat is real.&amp;nbsp; It is because of my experience, and the experience of those women that are living with Breast Cancer that I am joining forces with the American Cancer Society and &lt;a href="http://makingstrides.acsevents.org/site/TR?px=22431744&amp;amp;pg=personal&amp;amp;fr_id=36026"&gt;Making Strides Against Breast Cancer &lt;/a&gt;on October 2nd.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Every day, the Society is helping people stay well by helping them take  steps to reduce their risk of breast cancer or find it early, when it is  easiest to treat; helping people get well with information, day-to-day  help, and emotional support to guide them through every step of a breast  cancer experience; by finding cures and promising new treatments  through funding and conducting research; and by fighting back by working  with lawmakers to help all women get access to screenings and care. &lt;/i&gt;(The American Cancer Society, 2011)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I urge you all to find a &lt;a href="http://makingstrides.acsevents.org/site/PageServer?pagename=MSABC_FY12_findanevent"&gt;Making Strides Event near you&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; A world with less breast cancer and more birthdays.&amp;nbsp; What a wonderful world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://makingstrides.acsevents.org/site/TR?px=22431744&amp;amp;pg=personal&amp;amp;fr_id=36026"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" border="0" src="http://i54.tinypic.com/21bkl54.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Like to sponsor me?&amp;nbsp; Click on the above badge for a link to our team page.&amp;nbsp; Every little bit helps.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-2011546143021610184?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/2011546143021610184/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=2011546143021610184" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/2011546143021610184?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/2011546143021610184?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/08/world-with-more-birthdays.html" title="A World With More Birthdays" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://i54.tinypic.com/21bkl54_th.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUEQXo8eCp7ImA9WhdRFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-7797648574767681500</id><published>2011-08-06T10:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T10:16:40.470-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-06T10:16:40.470-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Not Super Just Mom" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Guest Blogging" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="giveaway" /><title>Where You At?</title><content type="html">I'm over at my soul sister Miranda's from &lt;a href="http://notsuperjustmom.com/2011/08/turning-30/" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Not Super...Just Mom&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;guest blogging while she's kicking up her Sparklecorn heels at Blogher!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://notsuperjustmom.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Button" border="0" src="http://i876.photobucket.com/albums/ab325/mrsmaybride/02e7b108.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Check it out, leave some love!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Also, don't forget to enter the giveaway closing tonight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-7797648574767681500?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/7797648574767681500/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=7797648574767681500" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/7797648574767681500?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/7797648574767681500?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/08/where-you-at.html" title="Where You At?" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIHRns-fip7ImA9WhdRFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-2080766092765182142</id><published>2011-08-05T05:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T05:45:37.556-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-05T05:45:37.556-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Keagan and Mommy" /><title>If Only He'd Asked For Directions</title><content type="html">Early, early, EARLY this morning my super-sonic mommy hearing was activated.&amp;nbsp; I could hear my little man whimpering.&amp;nbsp; Then calling for me.&amp;nbsp; Then starting to cry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I went into his room, prepared for a VERY long morning to find my little man curled into a ball at the bottom of his bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He looks at me and says "Mommy, where's my blankie?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I ask him if he wants to lay down...but it soon becomes apparent why he's at the bottom of the bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He's lost and can't find the pillow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Kid totally has my sense of direction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-2080766092765182142?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/2080766092765182142/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=2080766092765182142" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/2080766092765182142?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/2080766092765182142?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/08/if-only-hed-asked-for-directions.html" title="If Only He'd Asked For Directions" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQHQH0yfyp7ImA9WhdRF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-4089492417055722335</id><published>2011-08-03T06:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-07T09:05:31.397-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-07T09:05:31.397-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thirty-One Gifts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="giveaway" /><title>Sail Away With Me...</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;****GIVEAWAY CLOSED - Congratulations Gina!&amp;nbsp; Email me your contact info at TakingItOneStep@gmail.com!*** &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It's GIVEAWAY time!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As many of you know I'm a &lt;a href="http://www.mythirtyone.com/JessMisencik/" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Thirty-One Gifts Independent Consultant&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; Thirty-One Gifts is an amazing company focused on celebrating,  encouraging and rewarding women through offering quality products and an  outstanding opportunity to become successful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And did I mention how ridiculously cute?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BxCzzfOcYKg/Tjkbmme2VTI/AAAAAAAAB4o/dvS-YSJFpio/s1600/monthly-special-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="318" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BxCzzfOcYKg/Tjkbmme2VTI/AAAAAAAAB4o/dvS-YSJFpio/s400/monthly-special-1.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As a kick-off of the &lt;a href="http://fall2011.thirtyonegifts.com/page1.html" style="color: magenta;"&gt;New Fall Catalog&lt;/a&gt; and a soon-to-be send off of Summer, I'm giving one lucky reader this Sailboat Icon Coin Purse!&amp;nbsp; With zipper closure and lobster claw clip it is the perfect addition to any beach bag or lunch tote.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SutvpgzVeO4/TjkbrbQzYMI/AAAAAAAAB4s/Mb9bhflwuVE/s1600/sailboat-coin-purse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SutvpgzVeO4/TjkbrbQzYMI/AAAAAAAAB4s/Mb9bhflwuVE/s200/sailboat-coin-purse.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How do you win?&amp;nbsp; It's EASY!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Go check out our &lt;a href="http://fall2011.thirtyonegifts.com/page1.html" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Fall Catalog &lt;/a&gt;and come back to tell me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; what your favorite product is and how you would use it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
That's it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Contest will be opened through Saturday August 6th at 11:59pm.&amp;nbsp; Winner will be announced Sunday!&amp;nbsp; Good luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-4089492417055722335?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/4089492417055722335/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=4089492417055722335" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/4089492417055722335?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/4089492417055722335?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/08/sail-away-with-me.html" title="Sail Away With Me..." /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BxCzzfOcYKg/Tjkbmme2VTI/AAAAAAAAB4o/dvS-YSJFpio/s72-c/monthly-special-1.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08NQn8yeyp7ImA9WhdREko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-1923012455932417012</id><published>2011-08-02T06:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T06:11:33.193-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-02T06:11:33.193-04:00</app:edited><title>Yesterday.</title><content type="html">For about a week or so I've been meaning to call my Dr.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Obviously, since I waited an entire week I didn't feel like it was that big of a deal, but I finally remembered to do it yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And they wanted me to come in immediately.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday I sat in a waiting room while listening to them scramble around, trying to figure out why their computers weren't working.&amp;nbsp; I sat there and worried that this was going to take longer than my allotted hour lunch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday they sent me for a sonogram.&amp;nbsp; They were worried that it may be something more.&amp;nbsp; I drove over to the clinic worried what I was going to tell my manager.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I sat there and waited.&amp;nbsp; I sat there and worried.&amp;nbsp; I worried about who was checking my files, whether or not our client needed something and I wasn't there to handle it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday I had a Doctor say "We don't know what it is, we need more tests."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I sat there in my gown.&amp;nbsp; And I worried.&amp;nbsp; Only now I wasn't worried about my job and what was or was not happening in my absence.&amp;nbsp; I was worried about my little boy and what would happen if this went from "We don't know..." to "I'm so sorry..."&amp;nbsp; I worried about my husband and what would happen to if this changed our life from happiness to heartbreak.&amp;nbsp; I worried about my family and what would happen if...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday I did a lot of worrying, a lot of thinking.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now I'm focused on today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-1923012455932417012?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/1923012455932417012/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=1923012455932417012" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/1923012455932417012?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/1923012455932417012?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/08/yesterday.html" title="Yesterday." /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4BRHg6fip7ImA9WhdSFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-7724474135513814696</id><published>2011-07-25T20:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T20:42:35.616-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-25T20:42:35.616-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Helping" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Smiles" /><title>It's Things Like This That Make Me Smile</title><content type="html">A few days ago I was &lt;strike&gt;stalking&lt;/strike&gt; perusing Facebook land when I came across a status update from a girl I was friends with in high school {she also coincidentally lives down the street from me, but that's a whole other story}.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She was thanking those that had helped her recently collect gently used formal gowns that she would be bringing down to North Carolina in a few days.&amp;nbsp; These gowns are intended for girls ages 13 - 21 that are patients at&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href="http://www.levinechildrenshospital.org/"&gt;Levine Children's Hospital&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; These gowns are intended for children that are sick.&amp;nbsp; These gowns are intended for those that may never be able to attend a "real" prom.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Instantly I wanted to know more information.&amp;nbsp; My friend shared with me &lt;a href="http://whatsinyoursandbox.org/"&gt;The Sandbox,&lt;/a&gt; an organization focused on serving the individuals and families that are facing challenging  circumstances and obstacles in their lives, both emotionally and  financially due to terminal disease and/or circumstance.&amp;nbsp; One of their current projects was that of The 1st Annual Evening of Stars - a Prom for the children who are patients at &lt;a href="http://www.levinechildrenshospital.org/"&gt;Levine Children's Hospital.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I went downstairs and dragged out my prom dress.&amp;nbsp; I dragged out my bridesmaid dresses.&amp;nbsp; I dragged out everything and anything that could possibly make a young girl feel the thrill that is slipping into her first prom dress and feel like a princess.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had been holding on to these dresses out for the pure sentimental value of it.&amp;nbsp; I remember my Senior prom like it was yesterday.&amp;nbsp; I remember wearing that gorgeous blue ball gown in my dear friends wedding.&amp;nbsp; But I think I'm going to remember the thought of making a sick child feel beautiful a whole lot more.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Please check out &lt;a href="http://whatsinyoursandbox.org/"&gt;The Sandbox&lt;/a&gt; to learn more about how you too can help.&amp;nbsp; I know I'll be looking in to more programs like this at our local Children's Hospital, and I urge you to as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-7724474135513814696?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/7724474135513814696/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=7724474135513814696" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/7724474135513814696?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/7724474135513814696?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/07/its-things-like-this-that-make-me-smile.html" title="It's Things Like This That Make Me Smile" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcNRH05cSp7ImA9WhdSEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-139377719430105245</id><published>2011-07-21T06:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T06:11:35.329-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-21T06:11:35.329-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Keagan" /><title>A Night At The Park</title><content type="html">Last night we went down to the park where &lt;a href="http://www.mama-pajama.com/"&gt;Mama-Pajama&lt;/a&gt; was holding her weekly show.&amp;nbsp; Kids are everywhere playing with toys, instruments and more.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm not sure who had more fun, Keagan or myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f3b3_Euz_M4/Tif6D-fUDpI/AAAAAAAAB34/oEtMVyT1qno/s1600/DSC02790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="428" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f3b3_Euz_M4/Tif6D-fUDpI/AAAAAAAAB34/oEtMVyT1qno/s640/DSC02790.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
While the music was playing (I will have Itsy-Bitsy-Spider stuck in my head for days by the way) he would run over to the playground and be the dare-devil child that I love and fear! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MHvdhffMjns/Tif6JQ9bUqI/AAAAAAAAB38/974pQlJXq3M/s1600/DSC02768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="428" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MHvdhffMjns/Tif6JQ9bUqI/AAAAAAAAB38/974pQlJXq3M/s640/DSC02768.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Did I mention the sprayer?&amp;nbsp; Because it was like 90 degrees out too.&amp;nbsp; And he was hot.&amp;nbsp; And wanted in the water.&amp;nbsp; NOW.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mr_FAOMwPPU/Tif6KtVSN-I/AAAAAAAAB4A/s1n2gH8oq58/s1600/DSC02750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RVJQL5WS5pU/Tif6MrY6CtI/AAAAAAAAB4E/jfy1XEhPwHE/s1600/DSC02752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="427" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RVJQL5WS5pU/Tif6MrY6CtI/AAAAAAAAB4E/jfy1XEhPwHE/s640/DSC02752.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;At least he cooled off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mr_FAOMwPPU/Tif6KtVSN-I/AAAAAAAAB4A/s1n2gH8oq58/s1600/DSC02750.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="428" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mr_FAOMwPPU/Tif6KtVSN-I/AAAAAAAAB4A/s1n2gH8oq58/s640/DSC02750.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One thing is for sure.&amp;nbsp; He is getting be a little man, and the kid knows how to make me smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ARtK5aw7Ni0/Tif6OFL7RtI/AAAAAAAAB4I/5GHH97NHv7o/s1600/DSC02761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="428" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ARtK5aw7Ni0/Tif6OFL7RtI/AAAAAAAAB4I/5GHH97NHv7o/s640/DSC02761.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-139377719430105245?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/139377719430105245/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=139377719430105245" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/139377719430105245?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/139377719430105245?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/07/night-at-park.html" title="A Night At The Park" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f3b3_Euz_M4/Tif6D-fUDpI/AAAAAAAAB34/oEtMVyT1qno/s72-c/DSC02790.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4GR3k9eyp7ImA9WhdSEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-7895645689037116912</id><published>2011-07-18T20:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T20:55:26.763-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-18T20:55:26.763-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Postpartum" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Keagan" /><title>Today Was a Rough Day</title><content type="html">Any day that starts at 2:00am can't be headed for greatness...and that may be the BIGGEST understatement of the year right there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sunday Randy, Keagan and I met some of the family at &lt;a href="http://www.watersafari.com/"&gt;Old Forge - Enchanted Forest&lt;/a&gt; to spend the afternoon having fun in the sun and the evening in a &lt;a href="http://oldforgecamping.com/rates/index.cfm?fn=Camping_Cabins"&gt;quaint one bedroom cabin&lt;/a&gt; (thankfully, each of us had our own cabin because that?&amp;nbsp; Wouldn't have been pretty.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Has anyone seen any glaring foreshadowing yet?&amp;nbsp; No?&amp;nbsp; Read on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our little family had so much fun.&amp;nbsp; Taking Keagan on his first water ride, watching him play in the wave pool running back and forth in the surf with a huge smile on his face and playing with his cousin was fantastic.&amp;nbsp; Sure, he hadn't taken a nap.&amp;nbsp; Sure, he'd been up since 6:30am.&amp;nbsp; Sure, I was in dire need of coffee.&amp;nbsp; But all in all, we were having a blast.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later that evening we sat around the fire eating hot dogs, watching the boys play and pick raspberries.&amp;nbsp; We were amazed that he was still going and even more amazed that he was in such great spirits.&amp;nbsp; Randy finally tucked him into bed around 10pm (VERY late for him) and we crawled into bed ourselves shortly after, completely blissful and exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then the screaming started.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Did I mention we were in a one-bedroom cabin?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Did I mention Keagan is STILL going through a mommy phase?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Need I go much further?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By 5am (yes, three hours later) I was exhausted and on the verge of tears.&amp;nbsp; I was vowing to walk out of that cabin with little tufts of my newly highlighted hair gripped in my two hands.&amp;nbsp; I was ready to call it quits.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He finally curled up in bed with me (after he banished Randy to the much smaller twin bunk bed across the room because GOD FORBID HE BE SHARING A BLANKET WITH DADDY!) and slept.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was short-lived, but he slept.&amp;nbsp; We all slept.&amp;nbsp; But it didn't make it any easier, it didn't make it any better.&amp;nbsp; Now we had an over-tired toddler at a water park...and it's raining.&amp;nbsp; The car ride back was brutal as he screamed that he wanted Cheeze-Its (which were residing in his lap), he hit the dog and threw a full sippy cup at my head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know these days are few and far between.&amp;nbsp; I know that he is only two and yes, he was so tired.&amp;nbsp; But these days right here?&amp;nbsp; These are the days that make me feel about as defeated as any human being can ever possibly feel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-7895645689037116912?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/7895645689037116912/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=7895645689037116912" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/7895645689037116912?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/7895645689037116912?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/07/today-was-rough-day.html" title="Today Was a Rough Day" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MFR307eSp7ImA9WhdTFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-8363389444301855970</id><published>2011-07-11T19:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T19:03:36.301-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-11T19:03:36.301-04:00</app:edited><title>Prince - The Universal Symbol for Cool</title><content type="html">Today I spent five and a half hours in a&amp;nbsp;car with a co-worker whom&amp;nbsp;I don't really know all that well other than the fact that he is from Brooklyn, is married and has children in their 20's.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Needless to say, I was worried.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What do you talk about for five and a half hours in a car with someone you barely know?&amp;nbsp; Heck, I have a hard time making conversation with Randy for the 45 minutes it takes us to get to Gram's house on the weekends!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I digress.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We made it to Rochester until I turned on the ipod.&amp;nbsp; I'm not going to lie, I skipped over songs that I was, quite frankly, embarassed to have him hear.&amp;nbsp; I mean, come on.&amp;nbsp; NO ONE needs to see me rock out to &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oai1V7kaFBk"&gt;The Thong Song&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; No one.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So there I am, skipping over songs {Glee soundtrack anyone?} when &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiss_(song)"&gt;Prince's &lt;em&gt;Kiss&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; comes on.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm mortified.&amp;nbsp; I mean, I love Prince.&amp;nbsp; Love.&amp;nbsp; Him.&amp;nbsp; But now HE is going to know I love Prince.&amp;nbsp; And can't you just hear the water cooler talk now?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I quickly go to skip over yet another song when he says "You can keep that one on..." and starts singing along and rocking out to it.&amp;nbsp; With me.&amp;nbsp; In our rented Ford Edge.&amp;nbsp; The two of us found common ground in what can only be called one of THE best songs of the mid-80's {granted, I was oh...5 when it came out and he was...well, quite a bit older than 5} but still.&amp;nbsp; We owned it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So we bopped along for the roughly two minutes of greatness, totally in sync, totally jamming.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I didn't have to resort to talking about the weather until Buffalo, and for that Prince, I thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-8363389444301855970?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/8363389444301855970/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=8363389444301855970" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/8363389444301855970?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/8363389444301855970?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/07/prince-universal-symbol-for-cool.html" title="Prince - The Universal Symbol for Cool" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04BQnwzfip7ImA9WhZaGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-4269036631777611323</id><published>2011-07-05T20:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T20:25:53.286-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-05T20:25:53.286-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenthood" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="It Takes All Kinds" /><title>Where's Your Mommy?</title><content type="html">&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;    &lt;w:DontGrowAutofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:BrowserLevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;This 4&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; of July we took a family trip to the beach.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sidenote before I get to my story – people watching at the beach?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Priceless.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;If ever you need a boost to your self-confidence that is the place to go. Well, there and the State Fair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anywho, so we’re at the beach and having a grand old time while I get sunburned and Randy gets sunburned and Keagan plays in the water laughing and giggling and splashing.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;We’re having so much fun, our little family, when up walks this adorable little girl, who informs me she is three and wants to play with Keagan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mommy was VERY proud when Keagan shared his bucket with the little girl and even prouder when he laughed hysterically when she splashed him with water. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;We’re in the water for a good 30 minutes while the kids are playing together when I realize this little girl?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Yeah, she’s all alone.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;In the water.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;By herself.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;No parents in sight.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Three years old, in the water, by herself, chilling with two adults that she has never seen before in her life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now, I’m sorry and maybe I’m a little over-protective BUT, if I saw my kid being chatted up by two adults I didn’t know you can pretty much guarantee I would make my presence known ASAP.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Not to mention, THEY ARE IN THE WATER.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;But no.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;No adult.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Not in the water.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Not on the shore line.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Nada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I asked her where her mommy was to which she answered “Over there, somewhere…”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I scan the shoreline once again, to no avail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now I’m worried.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;And I’m angry.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Who does this?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Who puts their adorable little girl in a swimsuit, points them at the water and pretty much walks away?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;WHO DOES THIS?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, while Randy and Keagan continued to play I went up to the lifeguard stand and let them know that this little girl is by herself, in the water with no parent in sight and could they do something about that?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Thank God they are proficient at their jobs.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Quickly they sent another lifeguard out to talk to her and to walk the beach looking for her people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;From our chair I watched as this lifeguard and the little girl walked the beach.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I watched for almost 20 minutes as they combed this not very large beach looking for someone, hoping that any minute I would see a frantic parent come running up to her, clutching her to her chest, half terrified that they had lost their precious child.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;For 20 minutes I watched and waited.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Finally they must have found who I can only assume were her big sisters who were tasked with keeping an eye on their little sister.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Not 10 minutes later she was on her own again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;This poor child.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Is this a foreshadowing of what is in store for her?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;To walk alone on a beach with no one wondering where she is?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;To not be cared about enough to even have a life jacket on while playing in a lake alone?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It made my heart heavy to watch her walk back and forth on the beach with the lifeguard looking for the person that is supposed to love her more than life itself to no avail.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Selfish as this sounds, it made me realize that I am a good parent.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;That I am the parent standing in the water watching over her own, and those around her.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It made me realize that even on my worst days; I’m still a great parent.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I’m a great parent because I know that I could never point my child at the water and say good luck.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I’m a great parent because the alternative is too horrifying to imagine.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;If only there were more great parents.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-4269036631777611323?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/4269036631777611323/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=4269036631777611323" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/4269036631777611323?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/4269036631777611323?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/07/wheres-your-mommy.html" title="Where's Your Mommy?" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYGRXY7eCp7ImA9WhZaGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-6337904978375764670</id><published>2011-07-05T06:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T06:02:04.800-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-05T06:02:04.800-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Postpartum" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Keagan" /><title>3:15am</title><content type="html">3:15am.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's what time my child woke up this morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3:15...A.M.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I should preface this by saying, I know I'm lucky.&amp;nbsp; Keagan has consistently slept through the night since around 8 months old.&amp;nbsp; He has consistently gone to bed between 7:30pm and 8pm and most days we have to wake him up to get ready for daycare.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I get it.&amp;nbsp; I'm lucky.&amp;nbsp; I'm lucky because a lot of parents don't get that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unfortunately, the fact that he DOES &lt;i&gt;usually&lt;/i&gt; sleep through the night made 3:15am REALLLLLLY difficult to see.&amp;nbsp; It made it even more difficult when the reason he was losing his mind was that he wanted his sippy cup.&amp;nbsp; That was sitting right next to him.&amp;nbsp; But he couldn't see.&amp;nbsp; And he didn't remember it was there because he also didn't take a nap yesterday and fell asleep on Randy's chest while reading &lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Otto-Goes-Bed-Todd-Parr/dp/0316738735"&gt;Otto Goes To Bed&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/i&gt;for the 80th time since Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I'm tired.&amp;nbsp; And I'm cranky.&amp;nbsp; And I'm in dire need of an extra-large caffeinated drink like nobodies business.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But you know what?&amp;nbsp; I know when I go in to wake him up for daycare this morning he'll smile that ridiculously cute smile at me, giggle a giggle so similar to mine and climb up into my arms like a little koala bear...and all will be right with the world.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hopefully I can juggle my coffee with the 35 pound koala bear on my hip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-6337904978375764670?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/6337904978375764670/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=6337904978375764670" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/6337904978375764670?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/6337904978375764670?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/07/315am.html" title="3:15am" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><georss:featurename>Liverpool, NY, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>43.106456 -76.21770459999999</georss:point><georss:box>43.097278 -76.22983059999999 43.115634 -76.2055786</georss:box></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EHQXY9eyp7ImA9WhZaF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-564507888361935195</id><published>2011-07-03T13:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T13:53:50.863-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-03T13:53:50.863-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Postpartum" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Talking" /><title>Breakthrough</title><content type="html">&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;    &lt;w:DontGrowAutofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:BrowserLevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I kind of fell off the face of the planet.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Not really...but really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;For awhile there I was doing so well.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Writing at least a post a day, making my readers laugh, posting pictures of the midget.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then it seems like it all came crashing down.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;There isn’t any one particular straw that broke this camel’s back.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It was a dang haystack.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;And I was the needle.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Good luck finding that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;The other day I came on to search a recipe that I knew I had posted a couple of years back and I saw that my last post was from almost three months ago, and who the heck is that little boy, surely he isn’t my little man that is toddling all over the place yelling “To Infinity…and Beyond” (or at least a garbled version of that) and swinging in the big boy swing.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Surely it hadn’t been THAT long since I’d taken some time to write something, anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;But it has.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I’m ashamed.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;And you know what?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;There has been a notable difference in me, in my “real” life since I stopped writing.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;And not in a good way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are many things that I have shared on this blog over the years.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;For Christ’s sake, I &lt;a href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2008/07/were-having-baby.html"&gt;postedsticks THAT I HAD PEED ON &lt;/a&gt;for the entire world to see.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;But I always stopped short of sharing what I have, for a very long time now; felt was too much to share, especially knowing that I have family that follows.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I didn’t want to be bombarded by questions, thought differently of, or be worried about.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I didn't want to be judged.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;That choice to not share is what lead to me not posting, lead to me getting touchier and touchier with my husband, lead me to wanting to scream every time my son had a temper tantrum.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Without an outlet to share I bottled up all these feelings and have since taken them out on the two closest targets, my two loves of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;How is that good?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It’s not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;My dear friend Miranda at &lt;a href="http://notsuper-justmom.com/"&gt;Not Super…Just Mom&lt;/a&gt; is actually why I’m writing today.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Miranda has, from the very beginning been very open and honest about her struggle and survival of PPD.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;The other day she wrote a post about &lt;a href="http://notsuper-justmom.com/2011/06/slipping/"&gt;slipping&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;After a hellacious day she was done.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;She needed a break.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;She needed a hug.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;She needed reassurance that she was not only a good mom, but a great one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;And she got it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;She got it from her friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;She got it from her readers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;She got it from her family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;She got it because she put it out there.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;She wrote about how hard of a time she was having and how she felt and what she needed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Reading that made me realize that my bottling up and not talking about my own experience wasn’t helping me; if anything it was hindering me and making things worse.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It made me realize that I can’t get support from anyone if no one even knows I’m struggling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Because I am.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;And I have been for almost two years now.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I remember the day I said to my husband “I think I need to talk to my doctor about going on meds,” and he looked at me and said “I agree.”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Wake up call much?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;For months I had been struggling with it all, trying to figure out how to be super-mom, super-wife, super-everything and for months I kept disappointing myself and feeling that I wasn’t good enough and never would be.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;And for months I took it out on Randy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Finally I called my doctor.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I sat in her office and cried.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I cried for the months of feeling like a failure.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I cried for the months of being so angry at my husband and having no idea why.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I cried for the months of just wanting to run away, turn back time, just let go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I cried because I was depressed.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I know that now.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It wasn’t that I was a bad wife.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It wasn’t that I was a horrible mother.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I cried because, like so many other women out there I had a condition known as Postpartum Depression.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I left her office that day feeling like a weight, albeit a small one, had been lifted off my shoulders.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Along with a prescription I had strict orders to exercise, take “me time” and to talk.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I followed these orders for quite some time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;And then I stopped working out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;And then I stopped writing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;And then I started snapping at my husband for every little thing and thinking I must be just a horrible mother because who else but a horrible mother would let their child have a nervous breakdown at the thought of a juice box that didn’t have Lightning McQueen on it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It hit me last week that I hadn’t worked out in months.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I hadn’t really taken “me time” in awhile either, and I hadn’t written anything or talked to anybody in a real long time.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It hit me that I needed to stop this before it lead me down that dark path any farther.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;So this week I went to Zumba for the first time.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I’ve never had so much fun burning a ridiculous number of calories before.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;This week I went to Target, by myself, just to walk around.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;This week I wrote.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;This week, I’ll start to feel better.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-564507888361935195?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/564507888361935195/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=564507888361935195" title="15 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/564507888361935195?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/564507888361935195?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/07/breakthrough.html" title="Breakthrough" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQDSXk_eyp7ImA9WhZRFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-8874471163018309997</id><published>2011-04-10T22:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T22:02:58.743-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-10T22:02:58.743-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Spring" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Keagan" /><title>It Was A Good Day</title><content type="html">This weekend, Spring finally came to Central New York.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ln1tetmC3QE/TaJgZhyhocI/AAAAAAAAB1E/ndJbJdA7fBU/s1600/DSC02659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="318" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ln1tetmC3QE/TaJgZhyhocI/AAAAAAAAB1E/ndJbJdA7fBU/s400/DSC02659.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It was quite sneaky about it...tossing in a snow storm just days before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But the sun still came out, as promised, Saturday morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-br4U1RC01yA/TaJg_BUsktI/AAAAAAAAB1k/KGjDS2sIiss/s1600/DSC02658.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-br4U1RC01yA/TaJg_BUsktI/AAAAAAAAB1k/KGjDS2sIiss/s400/DSC02658.JPG" width="397" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pBTnRxgJQrE/TaJgk7AaLGI/AAAAAAAAB1M/HMqv3pa8tl8/s1600/DSC02648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And it was beautiful.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This winter has been a rough one for me for many different reasons, none of which I can even begin to put in to words yet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NTrBMYPPQmw/TaJgs2MxwPI/AAAAAAAAB1U/gXNJAnnclM4/s1600/keagan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="268" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NTrBMYPPQmw/TaJgs2MxwPI/AAAAAAAAB1U/gXNJAnnclM4/s400/keagan.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
But the sun still came out, as promised.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These past few months have been a whirlwind of obligations, training, run here, do this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v_tQxibD064/TaJg5fhCSRI/AAAAAAAAB1c/SCi3sO3u8c0/s1600/DSC02680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="313" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v_tQxibD064/TaJg5fhCSRI/AAAAAAAAB1c/SCi3sO3u8c0/s400/DSC02680.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
But the sun still came out, as promised.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just seeing my son smile like this has helped me to turn a corner out of the cold, dreary winter...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pBTnRxgJQrE/TaJgk7AaLGI/AAAAAAAAB1M/HMqv3pa8tl8/s1600/DSC02648.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="336" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pBTnRxgJQrE/TaJgk7AaLGI/AAAAAAAAB1M/HMqv3pa8tl8/s400/DSC02648.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-br4U1RC01yA/TaJg_BUsktI/AAAAAAAAB1k/KGjDS2sIiss/s1600/DSC02658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And in to the sun.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-8874471163018309997?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/8874471163018309997/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=8874471163018309997" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/8874471163018309997?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/8874471163018309997?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/04/it-was-good-day.html" title="It Was A Good Day" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ln1tetmC3QE/TaJgZhyhocI/AAAAAAAAB1E/ndJbJdA7fBU/s72-c/DSC02659.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04AQXw_fyp7ImA9Wx9aFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-1935142613676703733</id><published>2011-03-07T08:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T08:52:20.247-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-07T08:52:20.247-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Winter Wonderland" /><title>Things I Don't Need on a Monday Morning</title><content type="html">1)  A foot of snow overnight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2)  Wet clothes in the dryer rendering it impossible to find a pair of socks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3)  Getting stuck in a snow bank.  With a two-year-old in the back seat.  Who keeps saying "Mommy stuck?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4)  Shoveling for 20 minutes to get out of said snow bank only to have my husband arrive and take 30 seconds to get me out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's not even 9am and I'm spent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-1935142613676703733?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/1935142613676703733/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=1935142613676703733" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/1935142613676703733?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/1935142613676703733?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/03/things-i-dont-need-on-monday-morning.html" title="Things I Don't Need on a Monday Morning" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08ERHw8fCp7ImA9Wx9aEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-7218859533058871137</id><published>2011-03-02T08:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T08:16:45.274-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-02T08:16:45.274-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Birthday" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Keagan" /><title>Happy Birthday...</title><content type="html">Five years ago you were a thought, a twinkle in our eye.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Four years ago you were a "someday", a future plan to be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Three years ago you were a smile, a laugh, a wish a hug.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two years ago you were finally here, our waiting was all through.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two years ago we met our son...that little boy was you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Birthday Keagan, we love you so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-7218859533058871137?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/7218859533058871137/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=7218859533058871137" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/7218859533058871137?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/7218859533058871137?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/03/happy-birthday.html" title="Happy Birthday..." /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcCQno4eip7ImA9Wx9bFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-1368085754468844246</id><published>2011-02-24T08:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T08:11:03.432-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-24T08:11:03.432-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Writers Workshop" /><title>Writer's Workshop - February 24th</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Describe a time when someone was proud of you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've been struggling the past few weeks to think of anything I want to write about.&amp;nbsp; I've been struggling trying to find time to jot down the ideas that seem promising, which in turn means I've been without material for some time now. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
I got into the office early today and decided that I may as well check-out my old standby of the &lt;a href="http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/writers-workshop-directions/"&gt;Mama Kat's Writers Workshop&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;because really?&amp;nbsp; Why not? &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
The prompt that I chose for this week seemed perfect. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
I've been very lucky in my life to have family and friends that are, in a word, amazing.&amp;nbsp; I've been especially lucky to have my grandparents in my life.&amp;nbsp; Gram and Gramp have been my rock, through good times and bad, and I'd like to first thank them for that. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
Throughout the years I hope that I've given my Gram and Gramp moments to be proud of me. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
Like when I graduated High School... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
And graduated College... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
And when I got married... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
And when I had Keagan. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
But I know that the moments that really make them proud are when my old High School teachers see my Gram at the store and tell her how much they enjoyed having me in class.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Or when they see one of my coaches and they ask after me.&amp;nbsp; The little things that most people would think nothing of, the acknowledgement that their granddaughter was someone that is thought of as sweet, and caring and smart. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
These are the moments that I hope make them proud of me. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
I love you guys. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mamakatslosinit.com"target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i913.photobucket.com/albums/ac331/mamakatslosinit/workshop-button-1.png" alt="Mama's Losin' It"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-1368085754468844246?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/1368085754468844246/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=1368085754468844246" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/1368085754468844246?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/1368085754468844246?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/02/writers-workshop-february-24th.html" title="Writer's Workshop - February 24th" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AMSX8_cSp7ImA9Wx9UFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-6661265704087260931</id><published>2011-02-11T08:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T08:43:08.149-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-11T08:43:08.149-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thirty-One Gifts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="giveaway" /><title>Want to Win?</title><content type="html">Head on over to &lt;a href="http://31teamjess.blogspot.com/2011/02/want-to-win.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Thirty-One Gifts ~ Team Jess &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;for a chance to win an awesome &lt;a href="http://www.mythirtyone.com/JessMisencik/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Thirty-One Gifts&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Wristlet Wallet {pictured below}. A fantastic accessory for your soon to be out of hibernation Spring wardrobe!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uuUkPhX6_HA/TVU8JmwStTI/AAAAAAAABx8/9HCV9j5-Uao/s1600/wristletwallet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="368" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uuUkPhX6_HA/TVU8JmwStTI/AAAAAAAABx8/9HCV9j5-Uao/s640/wristletwallet.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Good luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-6661265704087260931?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/6661265704087260931/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=6661265704087260931" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/6661265704087260931?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/6661265704087260931?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/02/want-to-win.html" title="Want to Win?" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uuUkPhX6_HA/TVU8JmwStTI/AAAAAAAABx8/9HCV9j5-Uao/s72-c/wristletwallet.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04NQHY_fip7ImA9Wx9UEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-8579108433651910891</id><published>2011-02-08T08:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T08:33:11.846-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-08T08:33:11.846-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Top Ten Tuesday" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sluiter Nation" /><title>Top Ten Tuesday with Sluiter Nation - Things I Could Do Without</title><content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;a border="0" href="http://sluiternation.com/top-ten-tuesdays/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://sluiternation.com/images/top10button.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;1. Snow &lt;/b&gt;– Considering we hit our &lt;a href="http://www.cnycentral.com/news/story.aspx?id=554893"&gt;record for snowfall back in December&lt;/a&gt;, I’d like to think this one is pretty self-explanatory.  So, Mother Nature?  Yeah, enough is enough already.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;2. Bikinis in February&lt;/b&gt; – Do we really need another reminder that the holiday cookies and eggnog are still residing at our midsection?  And thighs.  And butt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;3. Toddler Tantrums&lt;/b&gt; -   How do those little vocal chords reach such high sound frequencies?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;4. Decaf Coffee&lt;/b&gt; – This ranks right up there with non-alcoholic wine and sugar free chocolate.  What’s the point?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;5. Designer Dogs&lt;/b&gt; – I know I’m not the only one that tears up when the ASPCA commercials come on.  With all the animals in shelters that need a safe and happy home I’m forever dumbfounded as to why people will spend thousands of dollars on a dog that is more high maintenance than I am.  Please, please, please adopt a dog or cat in need.  Check out &lt;a href="http://www.petfinder.com"&gt;www.petfinder.com&lt;/a&gt; or your local shelter.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;6. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://pbskids.org/caillou/"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Calliou&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - I don't know what it is, but I have a deep seated hatred for that bald, whiny, four-year-old.  It may have something to do with the theme song that is once again stuck in my head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;7. Clutter&lt;/b&gt; - My house seems to be in a constant state of disarray.  It makes me twitch a little.  Please make it stop.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;8.  Over-sharing -&lt;/b&gt; There is no need for me to know about your upcoming GYN appointment co-worker I don't know all that well.  No reason at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;9. Crib climbing -&lt;/b&gt; It's really great when you realize your child can not only get out of his crib by himself, but also refuses to sleep in a big-boy bed.  It's pure awesomeness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;10. Winter Clothes -&lt;/b&gt; While I love my sweaters, I'm dying for the days of light dresses and short sleeve cardigans.  Here's hoping the groundhog was right this year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-8579108433651910891?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/8579108433651910891/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=8579108433651910891" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/8579108433651910891?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/8579108433651910891?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/02/top-ten-tuesday-with-sluiter-nation.html" title="Top Ten Tuesday with Sluiter Nation - Things I Could Do Without" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUERXo9fyp7ImA9Wx9VGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-5166227601440222625</id><published>2011-02-04T06:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T06:00:04.467-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-04T06:00:04.467-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Things I'll Never" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Snow" /><title>::Shakes Head In Disgust::</title><content type="html">Well, I have once again been forced to do something I swore I would never, EVER do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This ranks right up there with "I will never be caught dead wearing Crocs" and "Shoot me dead if you EVER see me in skinny jeans."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GouVcSgvueY/TUsiQQhkQ2I/AAAAAAAABxo/TS653qqID6c/s1600/boot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GouVcSgvueY/TUsiQQhkQ2I/AAAAAAAABxo/TS653qqID6c/s400/boot.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Do you see that?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Those are winter boots.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In winter boots.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The woman who through 90% of her pregnancy, in the winter, in CNY, wore heels every.single.day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The woman that told my husband he had a better chance of meeting God than seeing me in a pair of winter boots {unless they were cute and had a heel.}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And you know what's worse?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've broken TWO of my "I will never..." statements.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Because not only are they winter boots.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh no, they are also {fake} Uggs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fake.  Freakin'.  Ugly. Uggs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Snowpocolypse forced my hand, what can I say?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I own skinny jeans too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
::head explodes::&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-5166227601440222625?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/5166227601440222625/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=5166227601440222625" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/5166227601440222625?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/5166227601440222625?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/02/shakes-head-in-disgust.html" title="::Shakes Head In Disgust::" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GouVcSgvueY/TUsiQQhkQ2I/AAAAAAAABxo/TS653qqID6c/s72-c/boot.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIBQXg-cSp7ImA9Wx9VF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-4127033416929887619</id><published>2011-02-03T13:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T13:42:30.659-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-03T13:42:30.659-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="workout" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="toddler" /><title>I Eat Like A Toddler</title><content type="html">Today I'm sitting at my desk eating my lunch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No particular reason really...ok, I'm sick and I really don't have the energy to sit in the little "lunch room" and make conversation with anyone...a situation compounded by the fact that they decided to test the fire alarm system {for an HOUR} today...and then for kicks threw on the strobe lights.  My sinus headache thanks you, building security.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So while I'm sitting at my desk I realize 1) that I haven't written anything in a REALLY long time; and 2) my lunch could easily pass for a 2 year olds.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Really Jess?  Fruit snacks?  You're {almost} 30.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was also a fruit cup.  That I stole from Keagan's cupboard {yeah, he has his own cupboard.}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Has it come to this?  Will I forever be digging through my kids snack drawer in the hopes of rekindling some lost piece of my youth?  What's next...PopTarts?  {mmmmmmm.....chocolate PopTarts....}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As you can probably tell from this rambling, I've also fallen off the "Get Jess in Shape" wagon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And it ran me over.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then backed over again just to make sure I had no feasible chance of getting on again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So essentially what this all boils down to is a slap in the face that I need to look fantastic in a bathing suit in no less than 5 months.  And fruit snacks aren't gonna cut it any more.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But maybe I will pick up that box of PopTarts this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-4127033416929887619?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/4127033416929887619/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=4127033416929887619" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/4127033416929887619?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/4127033416929887619?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-eat-like-toddler.html" title="I Eat Like A Toddler" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EESXw8eip7ImA9Wx9XE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-8207257097055272663</id><published>2011-01-06T06:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T06:00:08.272-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-06T06:00:08.272-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Writers Workshop" /><title>Writer's Workshop - January 6th</title><content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;em&gt;If the way you spent your New Year’s Eve is any indication of how the rest of the year will go, how would you say your future is looking right about now?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2010 was an amazing year for my family and I. It doesn’t seem possible that I’m already at a stage in my life that I’m a wife, a mother.,,and I’m doing pretty well at both {&lt;a href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2010/09/we-call-him-grace.html"&gt;not great, but pretty good&lt;/a&gt;.} We’ve started new jobs, gotten promotions. We’ve welcomed new members {&lt;a href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2010/07/well-thing-isthis-is-thing.html"&gt;Baby Jameson&lt;/a&gt;} and said good-bye to others. We’ve loved, we’ve laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all 2010 was a great year. It should come as no surprise than that we rang out 2010 in the same fashion that we rang it in. With good friends, good food, great wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;em&gt;And we were in bed at 12:15am.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this is any indication as to what 2011 holds for us, then I say bring it on. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Mama's Losin' It" src="http://i913.photobucket.com/albums/ac331/mamakatslosinit/poodle4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-8207257097055272663?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/8207257097055272663/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=8207257097055272663" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/8207257097055272663?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/8207257097055272663?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/01/writers-workshop-january-6th.html" title="Writer's Workshop - January 6th" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEERXg9fCp7ImA9Wx9XEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6210904598497775357.post-7778936282506140198</id><published>2011-01-05T07:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T07:30:04.664-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-05T07:30:04.664-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Keagan and Daddy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Wordless Wednesday" /><title>Wordless Wednesday - Mini Me, What?</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GouVcSgvueY/TSRkNJbgXRI/AAAAAAAABuA/2l6Augk1Wwo/s1600/DSC02583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GouVcSgvueY/TSRkNJbgXRI/AAAAAAAABuA/2l6Augk1Wwo/s400/DSC02583.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558678017114397970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6210904598497775357-7778936282506140198?l=comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/feeds/7778936282506140198/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6210904598497775357&amp;postID=7778936282506140198" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/7778936282506140198?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6210904598497775357/posts/default/7778936282506140198?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/2011/01/wordless-wednesday-mini-me-what.html" title="Wordless Wednesday - Mini Me, What?" /><author><name>~Jess</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07252012766487941843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="23" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEdofPxG5-M/ThOy50VbSJI/AAAAAAAAB3c/rfmjYMYYs9E/s220/30.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GouVcSgvueY/TSRkNJbgXRI/AAAAAAAABuA/2l6Augk1Wwo/s72-c/DSC02583.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>

