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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;C0cFRXk6eyp7ImA9WhRbF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622</id><updated>2012-02-08T16:43:34.713-06:00</updated><category term="Pregnancy" /><title>Whine &amp; Cheez</title><subtitle type="html">Life, Marriage &amp;amp; Motherhood</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>312</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/WhineCheez" /><feedburner:info uri="whinecheez" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>WhineCheez</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cDRn8yeyp7ImA9WhRbEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-5728517684748600092</id><published>2012-02-01T21:56:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T21:57:57.193-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-01T21:57:57.193-06:00</app:edited><title>I ove you</title><content type="html">&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RNdoVFomk2s" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-5728517684748600092?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YxFEt0Brj5A/TyXmjAEpwvI/AAAAAAAACeU/Q6xjDMVXqj8/s1600/IMG_0096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YxFEt0Brj5A/TyXmjAEpwvI/AAAAAAAACeU/Q6xjDMVXqj8/s400/IMG_0096.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
A few months back, as a gift to Ken for our anniversary, I booked a room at the &lt;a href="http://www.starwoodhotels.com/whotels/property/overview/index.html?propertyID=2005&amp;amp;language=en_US" target="_blank"&gt;W Hotel&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and bought tickets for us to see Mamma Mia-- and last night, we cashed it in! Ya see, I booked it when I was pregnant and I wanted it to be during a time where Jack was old enough to survive a night without me... and so I could drink myself into oblivion.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was our first EVER overnight date night. And it was a hilarious evening, full of&amp;nbsp;surprises-- and a few disasters.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our sitter arrived at noon on Saturday and we left shortly thereafter to head downtown for our colossal date night. On our drive down I told Ken that he should lie to the hotel staff and tell them it was our 10 year anniversary-- just to see what perks we could score.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we arrived, he pulled the anniversary card-- which landed us a free room upgrade. Not bad! We had a few bloodies in the hotel bar before heading up to the room to get cleaned up for the evening.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sDWxce74Tvw/TyXnnQh8McI/AAAAAAAACec/aSVrFCOeqsA/s1600/IMG_4580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sDWxce74Tvw/TyXnnQh8McI/AAAAAAAACec/aSVrFCOeqsA/s200/IMG_4580.jpg" width="149" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Apparently, Ken fibbed to them too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
We had 5:00 dinner reservations at &lt;a href="http://www.mastrosrestaurants.com/Locations/IL/71-Chicago-Main/Default.aspx" target="_blank"&gt;Mastro's&lt;/a&gt;, which came highly recommended by a friend of mine. The music at the joint was awesome, as was the food. After we asked for the check, a complimentary dessert was brought to the table. I could not keep the laughter in. "Happy Anniversary" was written on the plate in chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Next up, we were off to see&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.mamma-mia.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Mamma Mia&lt;/a&gt;. After a few glasses of champagne, we headed into the theatre to check out our seats. Go me! They were awesome!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The show started and everyone was having a blast. People were dancing, laughing, etc. I was loving it.&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/-Vb01mJkjXwA/TyX18HNY5nI/AAAAAAAACfE/KvtIjBdYwUM/s1600/IMG_0099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Vb01mJkjXwA/TyX18HNY5nI/AAAAAAAACfE/KvtIjBdYwUM/s320/IMG_0099.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
That's when it happened.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Halfway through the first act, the woman next to me shooshed me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She actually shooshed me!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn't believe it. I looked at her like, "Seriously?! Did you just &lt;i&gt;shoosh&lt;/i&gt; me?! You do realize you're at a musical comedy, right!?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What am I? 12 years old? The nerve!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
People all over were laughing and moving to the music and here I am, stuck next to Grumpy McMiserable. I brushed it off and continued to enjoy myself despite her bad attitude.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few minutes later, her douche-of-a-husband leans forward, looks at Ken and I and goes, "Hey! Knock it off! You two have been talking the entire show!". I shot back, "What are you talking about?! We haven't said a word! We are just enjoying the show!" Ken chimed in with a few choice words and the guy sat back and shut his trap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm happy to say that nothing came of it. We returned to our seats for the second act and I made sure to have Ken sit next to them. And that was the end of their crabby commentary.&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/-ccvGgUhC6oI/TyX16BABOBI/AAAAAAAACe8/Fc6qUUlOlyM/s1600/IMG_0097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ccvGgUhC6oI/TyX16BABOBI/AAAAAAAACe8/Fc6qUUlOlyM/s400/IMG_0097.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
After all the drama from the sour-apple-couple, we decided to head to Trump for a drink. One drink for each of us-- and $32 later-- we decided it was time to venture on to a new spot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After circling the loop for what seemed to be miles, we landed at&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.local22chicago.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Local 22&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;for some karaoke.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't think I've ever felt so old in my life. Everyone there had to be in their early 20's; Ken and I were definitely the old folks. Lucky for me, I got carded at the door. Ken didn't. ;-) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After bribing the DJ with entirely too much money, they called me to the stage. For some reason, I felt compelled to dedicate my song to "my little 12-week-old at home", where I received a lot of WOO-HOO's! &amp;nbsp;And I am happy to report it was the best rendition of "Red Neck Woman" I've ever done. Ahhhh. Liquid courage!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We made our way back to the hotel around 1 AM and managed to down a pepperoni pizza in 2 minutes flat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We woke up today with pounding heads. Is the sun really &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; bright!?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We made it home to suburbia by noon to face reality (the babies). I sure do wish kids understood the meaning of a hangover-- their screams seemed so much louder today. Ironically, I found myself doing a lot of "shooshing" at them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;
Thanks Jill for sending these adorable pics of the kids while we were out! And of course for taking care of them while we were allowed a night off. :)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RfilvCi-eLQ/TyX05tJI9TI/AAAAAAAACek/l2AMlCTFrwQ/s1600/IMG_4581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="297" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RfilvCi-eLQ/TyX05tJI9TI/AAAAAAAACek/l2AMlCTFrwQ/s400/IMG_4581.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;"ET Phone Home!!"&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jeoohdrY5fM/TyX1lAtGcAI/AAAAAAAACes/shNGF0INefo/s1600/406453_10151214867715527_739380526_22860149_135613448_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jeoohdrY5fM/TyX1lAtGcAI/AAAAAAAACes/shNGF0INefo/s400/406453_10151214867715527_739380526_22860149_135613448_n.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dfTq16j47Dg/TyX1lbFSMYI/AAAAAAAACe0/1VAldm9w5J4/s1600/429463_10151214872405527_739380526_22860160_410399947_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dfTq16j47Dg/TyX1lbFSMYI/AAAAAAAACe0/1VAldm9w5J4/s400/429463_10151214872405527_739380526_22860160_410399947_n.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CD6YFTZtMmE/Tx4fgOhETRI/AAAAAAAACeM/H7jJ5Z9a0qg/s1600/seasonal-depression-winter-cold-birthday-ecards-someecards.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="177" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CD6YFTZtMmE/Tx4fgOhETRI/AAAAAAAACeM/H7jJ5Z9a0qg/s320/seasonal-depression-winter-cold-birthday-ecards-someecards.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Man! Where have I been?! I haven't written in almost 2 weeks. Must be a record.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know, I know. You must have been beside yourselves, just waiting to hear from me. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I write this, I'm surrounded by two sick kids-- both diagnosed with respiratory infections while at the Dr today (don't be too startled--it's just a fancy name for the common cold).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Both kids are struggling with their normal routines due to trouble sleeping from a hacking cough. I've been averaging about 4 hours a night between the two of them-- demanding to be fed, diaper changed, juice cup refilled, etc.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All this creates a super tired Mommy-- especially considering I'm all on my own due to Ken being out of town since yesterday morning. He left for Dallas and won't be back till Wednesday-- which also means, I'll be celebrating my birthday for the first time without him in nearly 8 years (&lt;i&gt;Thank God for good friends who have agreed to meet for sushi and drinks at Nabuki!&lt;/i&gt;). In the meantime, Ken is sending me pics of him, in front of Tony Romo's cubby at the Cowboy Stadium, while he is "hard at work". Nope, I'm not jealous one bit. Not at all. Jerk. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Looking back, I have to say, 32 was a great year! We were blessed with another baby and our family has grown beyond anything I could have ever imagined or hoped for. I also made some wonderful friends and taken amazing vacations. We even had some great, memorable date nights-- despite me being the DD to my schnockered husband. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So tonight as I bid my 32nd year adieu, I am throwing back a hefty glass of wine (think: goldfish bowl). All by my lonesome. Pitty party?? Perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I do hope my birthday brings a day of healthy, smiling babies though-- and a big, fat diamond from the hubs wouldn't be too bad either.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
33-- here I come! &lt;br /&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/8457372108514105622-9033106392636106951?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tGhcYxz1KmQOf-nAqzEo2xUZf40/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tGhcYxz1KmQOf-nAqzEo2xUZf40/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/XF9L701pshQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/9033106392636106951/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=9033106392636106951" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/9033106392636106951?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/9033106392636106951?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/XF9L701pshQ/33-here-we-go.html" title="33? Here we go!" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CD6YFTZtMmE/Tx4fgOhETRI/AAAAAAAACeM/H7jJ5Z9a0qg/s72-c/seasonal-depression-winter-cold-birthday-ecards-someecards.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2012/01/33-here-we-go.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYBQXk4fCp7ImA9WhRVEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-1708147056309998508</id><published>2012-01-10T06:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T06:22:30.734-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-10T06:22:30.734-06:00</app:edited><title>Hoarding 101</title><content type="html">This is my daughter's bed. This is what it looks like every morning when she wakes up. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just this morning she woke up, upset about the stool in her bed, screaming for me to "come take out my stool". Apparently the little hoarder doesn't recall bringing it (and 1000 other toys) into her bed before she passed out. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How the hell does one sleep with all that crap in their bed?!&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-F1RBiM-AKQU/TwwtfN_YHbI/AAAAAAAACeA/C_0mU-r72RA/s640/blogger-image-919573359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-F1RBiM-AKQU/TwwtfN_YHbI/AAAAAAAACeA/C_0mU-r72RA/s640/blogger-image-919573359.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-1708147056309998508?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UEBe-U_vdlSCN9rkuWZWIEnehc4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UEBe-U_vdlSCN9rkuWZWIEnehc4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UEBe-U_vdlSCN9rkuWZWIEnehc4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UEBe-U_vdlSCN9rkuWZWIEnehc4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/V9z6MoNEK1Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/1708147056309998508/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=1708147056309998508" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/1708147056309998508?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/1708147056309998508?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/V9z6MoNEK1Y/hoarding-101_10.html" title="Hoarding 101" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-F1RBiM-AKQU/TwwtfN_YHbI/AAAAAAAACeA/C_0mU-r72RA/s72-c/blogger-image-919573359.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2012/01/hoarding-101_10.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4DQHk9fip7ImA9WhRWEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-6350468042088353106</id><published>2011-12-27T09:14:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T11:29:31.766-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-27T11:29:31.766-06:00</app:edited><title>Dear Desitin</title><content type="html">Dear Desitin-&lt;br /&gt;
We love your product, Desitin-- also known around here as "butt butter"&lt;i&gt; (&lt;/i&gt;I'm not sure where the nickname came from but that's what our daughter Ava began calling it and I suppose it just stuck).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My question is this: How the hell do you suggest we get the thick gunk off once our sweet girl spreads the paste all over her body, hair, toys, blankets and walls????&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do you have a Desitin remover? If not, perhaps it's something you should consider developing. We would buy it by the barrel. It would come in handy on mornings like this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hrpySgPomCc" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&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/8457372108514105622-6350468042088353106?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6FWVelTwMJ3YeDKf6H_wGQTc0vA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6FWVelTwMJ3YeDKf6H_wGQTc0vA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6FWVelTwMJ3YeDKf6H_wGQTc0vA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6FWVelTwMJ3YeDKf6H_wGQTc0vA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/bsYqBpBHM18" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/6350468042088353106/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=6350468042088353106" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/6350468042088353106?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/6350468042088353106?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/bsYqBpBHM18/dear-desitin.html" title="Dear Desitin" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/hrpySgPomCc/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/12/dear-desitin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8CSH85cCp7ImA9WhRQGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-3597718554522187074</id><published>2011-12-14T14:17:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T14:17:49.128-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T14:17:49.128-06:00</app:edited><title>6 Weeks: Time for the crib!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7AAqzcEX9pw/TukDsw3YaqI/AAAAAAAACbU/5KXY7xoD00o/s1600/6+inch+baby+napping+no+graphics-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7AAqzcEX9pw/TukDsw3YaqI/AAAAAAAACbU/5KXY7xoD00o/s320/6+inch+baby+napping+no+graphics-2.jpg" width="171" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Baby Jack got the boot today; the little guy's been evicted from our bedroom to his nursery where he will sleep &amp;amp; nap from now on (despite those occasional days where I need to get my mommy-snuggle fix). I moved Ava to her room on her 6 week anniversary so I feel it's only fair to be consistent with the little fella. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, it took a few attempts but I can now say that both kids are napping (holding my breath) in their own rooms. Ahhhh. I obviously don't know what to do with myself which is why I'm on here blogging about it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope that my life will resume some sense of normalcy going forward. I'm not counting on it just yet, though. These little boogers have a mind of their own.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With my newfound freedom I'm thinking I might even venture to make a pork loin with roasted veggies for dinner tonight. It's amazing what a little me-time will do! Here's to more days like this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-3597718554522187074?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LDCDBdhjMtrBkboGoQ13aZI_ejY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LDCDBdhjMtrBkboGoQ13aZI_ejY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LDCDBdhjMtrBkboGoQ13aZI_ejY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LDCDBdhjMtrBkboGoQ13aZI_ejY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/wIwBbhGe6mM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/3597718554522187074/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=3597718554522187074" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/3597718554522187074?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/3597718554522187074?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/wIwBbhGe6mM/6-weeks-time-for-crib.html" title="6 Weeks: Time for the crib!" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7AAqzcEX9pw/TukDsw3YaqI/AAAAAAAACbU/5KXY7xoD00o/s72-c/6+inch+baby+napping+no+graphics-2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/12/6-weeks-time-for-crib.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEECQXczeip7ImA9WhRQE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-867038449158121836</id><published>2011-12-07T19:55:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T21:57:40.982-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-07T21:57:40.982-06:00</app:edited><title>Love it!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x2eBxbttfPY/TuAinFeg2KI/AAAAAAAACao/mGueNZWooBA/s1600/IMG_3194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="211" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x2eBxbttfPY/TuAinFeg2KI/AAAAAAAACao/mGueNZWooBA/s320/IMG_3194.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
When I moved here, I never in my life thought I would be blessed with friends that are such incredibly sweet ladies. Since Jack's birth we have been brought numerous (and very delicious) meals, gifts, etc. The outpouring of support has been tremendous and I am so very thankful to all of them. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And even more recently we've gotten some adorable, homemade Christmas gifts from some of the very same girls.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I recieved a hand painted Santa canvas as I was leaving a holiday party last night. The host (Anna) painted these darling Santa pics (with the help of her Mom) and gave one to each guest as they exited the party. How ca-ute??! And talk about time consuming! I can't wait to put it in a frame with white matting. I have the perfect spot for it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And today, I received a text from my friend (Ali) telling me to check the front door. I opened the door and sitting there was the cutest little gift: homemade holiday coasters. The sweet little elf she is-- came and dropped off a homemade gift for us. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PJbqCMsCJpg/TuAikztKKWI/AAAAAAAACag/_xu8XREWUdg/s1600/IMG_3191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PJbqCMsCJpg/TuAikztKKWI/AAAAAAAACag/_xu8XREWUdg/s320/IMG_3191.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How adorable are these girls?! And could they &lt;i&gt;BE&lt;/i&gt; more thoughtful?! Have I mentioned lately how much I love living here??! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-867038449158121836?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l1hH4zTwS5zbJhn9p3AWY4t-vUQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l1hH4zTwS5zbJhn9p3AWY4t-vUQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l1hH4zTwS5zbJhn9p3AWY4t-vUQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l1hH4zTwS5zbJhn9p3AWY4t-vUQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/9PfMj9xKNBc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/867038449158121836/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=867038449158121836" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/867038449158121836?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/867038449158121836?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/9PfMj9xKNBc/love-it.html" title="Love it!" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x2eBxbttfPY/TuAinFeg2KI/AAAAAAAACao/mGueNZWooBA/s72-c/IMG_3194.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/12/love-it.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UGRn84fyp7ImA9WhRQEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-475607740031554334</id><published>2011-12-06T11:46:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T12:13:47.137-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-06T12:13:47.137-06:00</app:edited><title>Too fun!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Yy3iHiOHdA/Tt5W1PoMP3I/AAAAAAAACaQ/oSs1yK9huM4/s1600/388638_265487410167076_130018087047343_698002_1937411613_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Yy3iHiOHdA/Tt5W1PoMP3I/AAAAAAAACaQ/oSs1yK9huM4/s400/388638_265487410167076_130018087047343_698002_1937411613_n.jpg" width="377" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Scrolling through my Facebook feed, I saw a picture that looked familiar. On the page for the Village of Hinsdale, there is an announcement that their program guide for the upcoming season will soon be available.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well-- guess who is on the cover?! Yep! It just so happens that there is a picture of Ava and I from their Easter Egg Hunt, taken last year by a village employee (I vaguely remember posing for it).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's hilarious to look at this pic... Ava was still semi-bald and I 
remember just finding out a few days before that we were pregnant.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nonetheless, it's pretty fun! I wonder if Ava knows she's a mini-celeb...???? ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-475607740031554334?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BR6z28oge2vpqyUMa4m-sQbn1i0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BR6z28oge2vpqyUMa4m-sQbn1i0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BR6z28oge2vpqyUMa4m-sQbn1i0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BR6z28oge2vpqyUMa4m-sQbn1i0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/5eV5Zt2mjXU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/475607740031554334/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=475607740031554334" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/475607740031554334?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/475607740031554334?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/5eV5Zt2mjXU/too-fun.html" title="Too fun!" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Yy3iHiOHdA/Tt5W1PoMP3I/AAAAAAAACaQ/oSs1yK9huM4/s72-c/388638_265487410167076_130018087047343_698002_1937411613_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/12/too-fun.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMEQ3w9eyp7ImA9WhRQEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-675507748749939516</id><published>2011-12-05T07:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T08:46:42.263-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-05T08:46:42.263-06:00</app:edited><title>Jingle's here!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="main_text"&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xKb4b-4iE6s/TtzYKkH_owI/AAAAAAAACZ0/v1OWjUHguNA/s1600/IMG_3080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xKb4b-4iE6s/TtzYKkH_owI/AAAAAAAACZ0/v1OWjUHguNA/s400/IMG_3080.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Jingle's here!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Has your family gotten your Elf on the Shelf yet? Seems as though 
everyone and their dog is embracing this tradition with open arms. And 
why not? The concept is genius—&lt;i&gt;you had better behave you little scoundrels, the elf is watching!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our Elf on the Shelf arrived a week late. It seems as though a 
certain someone (oops) didn’t make it to the store to have all the 
ingredients for the perfect “Jingle Breakfast,” where our elf would make
 his grand entrance for the Christmas season.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, you-know-who finally got her butt in gear—not like I've been 
busy or anything (insert sarcasm)—and I am happy to say that our very 
own elf, Jingle, arrived promptly at 9 a.m. on Saturday. He arrived in 
full elf fashion, surprising us with a delicious breakfast complete with
 Donner’s doughnuts, Elfy Eggs, Blitzen’s bacon, Reindeer snacks 
(apples), Claus’s cocoa and Mom-mosas for the hubs and I. &lt;i&gt;Hair of the dog, anyone?! And did I mention how much I miss day drinking?!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JmntZVz7Lho/TtzYEbcEiJI/AAAAAAAACZc/5MhAGH0FvNw/s1600/IMG_3024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JmntZVz7Lho/TtzYEbcEiJI/AAAAAAAACZc/5MhAGH0FvNw/s400/IMG_3024.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ava was beyond ecstatic about his arrival; I think her exact words 
were “Ooooh, I lubb it!” And Ken and I quickly discovered that Jingle 
had some serious bargaining power; just the mention (threat) that 
“Jingle is watching” made her snap into shape immediately when she was 
acting out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The second morning we had Jingle, we discovered him hanging upside 
down from our chandelier. Ava was stoked to find him there. In fact, 
when she woke up, she immediately began searching for him, which 
surprised me—big time. I thought that it would take a few years for her 
to fully understand Jingle’s pull with the big man in the red suit. 
Silly of me to doubt her, I suppose. She’s so darn smart.&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Clearly she takes after me.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Little does she know, Jingle the Elf will be one of many traditions I
 look to celebrate with her over the next few years. In my opinion, 
Christmas is the absolute best time of year. I have the greatest 
memories from my own childhood and I want to be sure to give my own 
children the same gift.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0X-amOgZhNs/TtzYGsQayZI/AAAAAAAACZk/5VwukutEBg8/s1600/IMG_3059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0X-amOgZhNs/TtzYGsQayZI/AAAAAAAACZk/5VwukutEBg8/s400/IMG_3059.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Letter from Jingle&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
In recent years, my mom, sister and I have started a new tradition 
where we have brunch at the Walnut Room at Macy’s on State Street. They 
ride the train into the city where we do some shopping and dine by the 
huge, beautiful tree. And then, if the line isn’t out the door and all 
the way down Lake Shore Drive, we wait to see Santa. The kids absolutely
 love it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In a few years I look forward to taking Ava to see &lt;i&gt;The Nutcracker&lt;/i&gt;.
 I myself grew up taking dance and even danced the lead character 
(Clara) during my junior year of high school. I would love to say I gave
 a performance worthy of the American Ballet Theatre, but I will humbly 
admit that during a matinee performance I bit the dust, landing flat on 
my face during a grand jete. &lt;i&gt;Ahh. Memories&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r2Pj5K3y2cs/TtzYIrCpBZI/AAAAAAAACZs/bUWU9LFoZEs/s1600/IMG_3069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r2Pj5K3y2cs/TtzYIrCpBZI/AAAAAAAACZs/bUWU9LFoZEs/s400/IMG_3069.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Enjoying her 1st ever Jingle Breakfast&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I look forward to having a girls' day in the city where we’ll have 
lunch, shop and end the trip with a performance by the Joffrey Ballet. 
How spoiled are we to have them in Chicago? It would be a shame not to 
take advantage.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also look forward to taking Ava on a “Christmas Lights Drive.” When
 I was little we would load ourselves into the car, turn on a radio 
station that was playing Christmas music and we would ride around town 
in search of beautiful Christmas lights. It was one of my favorite 
things to do as a child. And how great, it’s 100 percent free!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And of course there will always be the morning spent baking and decorating Christmas cookies.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So much fun. So little time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FoDabLkbS1M/TtzYMfP_NoI/AAAAAAAACZ8/KtgYtnXsDLA/s1600/IMG_3089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FoDabLkbS1M/TtzYMfP_NoI/AAAAAAAACZ8/KtgYtnXsDLA/s400/IMG_3089.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;I wonder what Jingle thinks about Ava painting her face...?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;This story was originally posted on &lt;a href="http://hinsdale.patch.com/articles/jingle-has-arrived" target="_blank"&gt;Hinsdale- Clarendon Hills Patch: Jingle Has Arrived&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-675507748749939516?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KeKiVdd4vgzmj8DcZyl0_i0U5YI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KeKiVdd4vgzmj8DcZyl0_i0U5YI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KeKiVdd4vgzmj8DcZyl0_i0U5YI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KeKiVdd4vgzmj8DcZyl0_i0U5YI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/i6DtykwD2nk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/675507748749939516/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=675507748749939516" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/675507748749939516?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/675507748749939516?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/i6DtykwD2nk/jingles-here.html" title="Jingle's here!" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xKb4b-4iE6s/TtzYKkH_owI/AAAAAAAACZ0/v1OWjUHguNA/s72-c/IMG_3080.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/12/jingles-here.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYEQnY9eSp7ImA9WhRQEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-8431957601079112314</id><published>2011-12-04T20:59:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T21:01:43.861-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-04T21:01:43.861-06:00</app:edited><title>Naughty naughty!</title><content type="html">&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/3o001TpKVaU" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-8431957601079112314?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IMG3_qf-fbyYHLUkziMx-eRKqRQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IMG3_qf-fbyYHLUkziMx-eRKqRQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IMG3_qf-fbyYHLUkziMx-eRKqRQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IMG3_qf-fbyYHLUkziMx-eRKqRQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/6tWwz0vzloU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/8431957601079112314/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=8431957601079112314" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/8431957601079112314?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/8431957601079112314?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/6tWwz0vzloU/naughty-naughty.html" title="Naughty naughty!" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/3o001TpKVaU/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/12/naughty-naughty.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcARH0_fyp7ImA9WhRRFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-1779587716769651638</id><published>2011-11-28T18:34:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T19:27:25.347-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-28T19:27:25.347-06:00</app:edited><title>Can I get a do-over?!</title><content type="html">"Ya get what ya pay for!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well ain't that the truth! Last year I hit up some stores to rope in bargains on some post-Christmas sales-- and I walked away with a new Christmas tree for a whopping $25! I was stoked! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well-- I pulled it out this year and was amazed at how the manufacturers could possibly fit a 7' tree into such a small box! Well, I was surprised-- until the "tree" was assembled.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here's what the sorry-excuse-for-a-tree looked like:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F-PYQOwk35I/TtQpj25V6yI/AAAAAAAACX4/JVxhxNNFpgY/s1600/IMG_2782.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F-PYQOwk35I/TtQpj25V6yI/AAAAAAAACX4/JVxhxNNFpgY/s400/IMG_2782.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
The damn thing looked like a meth addict. Lesson learned, I suppose. Sadly, I was even more naive in thinking that a little garland and ornaments would fatten her up. So on I went with the decorations-- spending the next hour or so trying to beautify the little orphan.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RCCiJheJ0Vk/TtQqs2OFlDI/AAAAAAAACYE/BdsUy_p1qo4/s1600/IMG_4131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RCCiJheJ0Vk/TtQqs2OFlDI/AAAAAAAACYE/BdsUy_p1qo4/s400/IMG_4131.jpg" width="298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Nice try, Gilbert. This pic doesn't do it justice but it was still as see through as a skanky piece of lingerie. I looked at it with my classic "Ewww! Gross!" face for about 12 hours before I headed out to buy a new one. &lt;i&gt;All that face-scrunching is going to call for some serious Boto.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And down she went. She now sits on the curb, waiting for the next truck of junk collectors to scoop her up. Good riddance.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm much happier with the new tree. It doesn't look nearly as putrid as the last one. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-95XHgCaptas/TtQrh4-ki3I/AAAAAAAACYM/L7qokoopbvo/s1600/IMG_2811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-95XHgCaptas/TtQrh4-ki3I/AAAAAAAACYM/L7qokoopbvo/s400/IMG_2811.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
And for what it's worth-- Ava sure seems to like it too!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rZ0JJAS3Cpk/TtQt7HS9ykI/AAAAAAAACYU/WFaPSRNuRuE/s1600/IMG_2829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rZ0JJAS3Cpk/TtQt7HS9ykI/AAAAAAAACYU/WFaPSRNuRuE/s400/IMG_2829.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-at3vXxBNeSw/TtQt83BhhII/AAAAAAAACYc/941WIKlDq1w/s1600/IMG_2839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-at3vXxBNeSw/TtQt83BhhII/AAAAAAAACYc/941WIKlDq1w/s400/IMG_2839.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jNQMWfYxGW0/TtQt-Q7PmHI/AAAAAAAACYk/Af0ebYNR1zs/s1600/IMG_2857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jNQMWfYxGW0/TtQt-Q7PmHI/AAAAAAAACYk/Af0ebYNR1zs/s400/IMG_2857.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZeradY2To4U/TtQuABpzmgI/AAAAAAAACYs/vlYuWQ1QmKw/s1600/IMG_2861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZeradY2To4U/TtQuABpzmgI/AAAAAAAACYs/vlYuWQ1QmKw/s400/IMG_2861.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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And little Jack could care less!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-1779587716769651638?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jUHGYGpXhDqan0ard9odxnOBTI8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jUHGYGpXhDqan0ard9odxnOBTI8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/dFnpfEVcj1A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/1779587716769651638/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=1779587716769651638" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/1779587716769651638?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/1779587716769651638?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/dFnpfEVcj1A/can-i-get-do-over.html" title="Can I get a do-over?!" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F-PYQOwk35I/TtQpj25V6yI/AAAAAAAACX4/JVxhxNNFpgY/s72-c/IMG_2782.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/11/can-i-get-do-over.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04BQ3w-fip7ImA9WhRSFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-2213709650829311219</id><published>2011-11-16T14:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T16:19:12.256-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-16T16:19:12.256-06:00</app:edited><title>Git er done!</title><content type="html">It's amazing how much more productive one becomes when you have less time. For instance, my sophomore year in college was crazy: I was taking 18 hours of classes, doing Golden Girls (dance team), working at Johnny's Beanery nearly 25 hours a week, super active with sorority "stuff", etc. I had all of this stuff going on, allowing me hardly any free time-- yet I somehow managed to get the best grades of my college career during that semester. How is that?!?! The other semesters were spent doing far less "stuff"--and my grades reflected there was far less studying going on, too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The difference? It's called prioritizing, folks. When you don't have extra time, you make the best of whatcha got.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I mention this because I have been one productive momma ever since we welcomed another baby to our family. Before Jack's arrival I moseyed around, doing a little here, a little there-- enjoying long breaks in front of the tv &amp;amp; computer-- and truthfully, getting a whole lot of nothing done.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now? No way in hell is that happening! I am a multitasking hot mess. I go from nursing Jack to laundry to dishes to diapers to coloring with Ava to lunch to.... (you get the idea).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Surprisingly, I've gotten a lot of "to-do" items crossed off my list this week. It's surprising because they're things that despite my "free time", they remained on my list for 6 months and I never once thought about executing on them. Well, now with my shortage of time I've suddenly found the motivation to get after it.&amp;nbsp; Here's one of the latest things I tackled:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GkPBQI2RQHk/TsQk3PJskEI/AAAAAAAACXU/ibtnwlxo3VQ/s1600/IMG_4086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GkPBQI2RQHk/TsQk3PJskEI/AAAAAAAACXU/ibtnwlxo3VQ/s400/IMG_4086.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Shoe organizer turned cleaning products organizer&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
I wish I could take credit for this genius idea-- but the truth is, I found it on &lt;a href="http://pinterest.com/kristi_gilbert/" target="_blank"&gt;Pinterest&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;i&gt;Did I mention I freaking love Pinterest?!&lt;/i&gt; I can't tell you how much room I created by getting all of these products off the shelves and into the shoe organizer. Brilliant, I tell you! Brilliant!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
See?! I'm doing all sorts of things around here. Well-- except for showering. Those pesky showers still haven't found a way onto the list of high priorities (I'm lucky if I get a 2 minute "rinse-off" on a daily basis). Maybe I'll get to that after I clean the gutters, caulk the shower and hang the window treatments. Just maybe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Signed-&lt;br /&gt;
Stinkalicious&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-2213709650829311219?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="main_text"&gt;
I  would like to introduce you to my son, Jackson (Jack) Houston 
Gilbert. Named after my late father, he is the  newest addition to our 
family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The little man arrived Wednesday, Nov. 2, 2011, &amp;nbsp;at 11 a.m., weighing
 just 6 lbs., 7 oz.—the slightest bit bigger than his  sister Ava, who 
was born just two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The  original plan was to be induced on the morning of Friday, Nov. 
4. Clearly, Jack didn't feel like waiting until then. Instead, he chose 
 3:30 a.m. Wednesday morning to start stirring things up.&lt;br /&gt;
He  threw me for a few loops that night; I didn't know whether to 
head to the  hospital or to just stay home. The contractions were 
constant, but the  intensity constantly changed, which made me feel like
 it was false  labor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Around 5 a.m. I made the decision to head  to the hospital. Ken ran 
across the street to wake our sweet neighbor  Jean, who immediately came
 over to care for Ava while we went to the  hospital. Bless her heart. 
I'm not sure what we would have done without Jean.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We arrived at the hospital at 6 a.m. and I was  immediately examined.
 The nurse checked me, frowned, and informed me that I was still only 2 
cm. dilated—the exact same progress I was at as  a week ago while 
visiting my doctor. Seriously?! I felt so dumb. I just knew it was 
another  false alarm.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The nurse then hooked me up to the monitors and said she would check 
on me in a bit.&amp;nbsp;She said she wanted me to walk for an hour or so to try 
and speed things up and then she'd re-check me to see if anything  
progressed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, I'll have you know, we never got to that walking bit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I laid there watching my husband (a.k.a. MacGyver) trying to 
concoct a bed out of a chair, bed tray and heater, the contractions made
 a comeback—with a vengeance. &lt;i&gt;Holy cow! I remember this garbage! There is no turning back now!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By  7:15, I had dilated to 6 cm. and I knew (based on the intensity 
and  closeness of the contractions) that it was the real thing. In fact,
 the  neighboring rooms must have known, too, based on the howls (and 
other choice words) coming from our  room.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We were quickly moved into one of the delivery rooms  and the 
anesthesiologist was immediately paged. It felt like forever  until she 
was able to get me the epidural.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In fact, I don't know what I  would have done without Chris M., my 
amazing L&amp;amp;D nurse. She was absolutely wonderful, reassuring me and 
coaching me  along, reminding me to breathe through those horrific 
contractions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Meanwhile, my husband and I were communicating via cell phone with my
 mom, who was en route via Amtrak from Quincy, Ill. She was  due in town
 around 10 a.m. and we were convinced she wasn't going to  make it in 
time for the birth, which really bummed her out considering  this was 
the first time she was going to be a part of a grandchild's birth.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm pretty sure she called during a few of those contractions and 
heard me scream words that you definitely can't find in your trusty old 
dictionary.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, lucky for Mom, my obstetrician had to finish performing a  
surgery before she could make her way to my room, which meant we needed 
 to wait for at least 45 more minutes before starting "push time." 
Surprisingly, the push wasn't hard on me, considering I couldn't feel a 
thing; I was so  numb that I couldn't even move my legs. I was paralyzed
 from  the waist down.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Before we knew it, 45 minutes had passed,  my mom had arrived (thank 
you, Jen, for playing the role of "speedy  taxi") and the OB was in my 
room, asking if I was ready to go.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Um... I guess so," I said, looking at my husband with a face that said, "Holy crap! We are about to have another baby!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They asked if I wanted a mirror to get in on the  action and I turned
 them down flat—no way did I want to see what was  going on down there. 
In fact, I remember seeing it in eighth grade health  class and I'm 
pretty sure it scarred me for life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After a little coaxing from my L&amp;amp;D nurse, though, I thought I'd give things a peek.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Holy shirts and pants. He was RIGHT. THERE.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I must admit, as gory as it was to see, it was pretty cool to 
watch him come into this world and take his first breath. (It reminded 
me of a scene from "V" circa 1985, only he wasn't green ... or an 
alien).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With  one push (yes, you heard me correctly—ONE!), Jack was here. And
 boy was  he beautiful; complete and total perfection in the form of 
tiny,  toe-head! They laid his gooey little body on my chest and we 
screamed  with joy!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ten fingers, 10 toes and an Apgar score of 9; he checked out beautifully. (How lucky are we?!)&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;We're convinced they only give 10s to babies of doctors and nurses!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's amazing how quickly the love comes the next time  around. I 
immediately loved this little guy; the connection was  instantaneous.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Up until today, I have been a worried mess that postpartum depression
 would hit me like a ton of bricks with this baby, considering &lt;a href="http://hinsdale.patch.com/articles/a-moms-fight-with-postpartum-depression"&gt;my battle  with PPD after my first was born&lt;/a&gt;. With Ava, I went to "crazytown" on day three and was a total whacko well into that first month.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well I'm happy to say (knock on wood) that even though it's only day 
five, I already feel 300 percent better than I did with my daughter. 
Call it wishful thinking, but I think I'm going to be okay this time 
around.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's funny. Looking back through pics of our family seems odd now. To
 see a pic  of Ken, Ava and I seems strange—it's already as if someone 
has  been missing the whole time. I can't really explain it. Even our 
recent  Halloween pictures don't look right now. It's as if I know we 
are  missing little Jack.&lt;br /&gt;
To wrap it up—because I'm freaking exhausted from chasing a toddler 
and caring for a newborn—I look forward to watching this little man grow
 and change. Don't get me wrong, I'm  afraid of the rough days for fear 
that PPD might be around the corner, but I am content knowing I'll be 
okay if it does strike again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Words cannot express how lucky and blessed I feel to call these two 
children mine. I look at the both of them and smile, almost in denial 
that I carried and birthed the both of them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Article (originally posted on &lt;a href="http://hinsdale.patch.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Patch&lt;/a&gt;): &lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://hinsdale.patch.com/articles/introducing-baby-jack" target="_blank"&gt;Introducing Baby Jack&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-7017930259445188246?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jrCCSujIA4lHkkx73YNyRwqW_6A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jrCCSujIA4lHkkx73YNyRwqW_6A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/zZaFHznAYTY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/7017930259445188246/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=7017930259445188246" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/7017930259445188246?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/7017930259445188246?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/zZaFHznAYTY/meet.html" title="Meet Jack" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wb3hZct_z4I/TrMrgmwCe0I/AAAAAAAACT0/zuoph2eF6tk/s72-c/IMG_2365.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/11/meet.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08DQH09fSp7ImA9WhRTE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-5965157857187121515</id><published>2011-11-04T00:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T00:51:11.365-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-04T00:51:11.365-05:00</app:edited><title>It doesn't come sweeter than this</title><content type="html">&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TMSjHas2Tuo" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-5965157857187121515?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7hpNmc-0ZHwNqDQ6nzxGzvF4AUU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7hpNmc-0ZHwNqDQ6nzxGzvF4AUU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/ukTC_qyNBu4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/5965157857187121515/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=5965157857187121515" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/5965157857187121515?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/5965157857187121515?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/ukTC_qyNBu4/it-doesnt-come-sweeter-than-this.html" title="It doesn't come sweeter than this" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/TMSjHas2Tuo/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/11/it-doesnt-come-sweeter-than-this.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AGQnsyfip7ImA9WhdaGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-9126151807727523116</id><published>2011-10-28T14:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T14:55:23.596-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-28T14:55:23.596-05:00</app:edited><title>Winner Winner Chicken Dinner!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jHSaxz49WGQ/TqsE8xZjdBI/AAAAAAAACQ8/vpRxk9SQ8oE/s1600/IMG_2037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jHSaxz49WGQ/TqsE8xZjdBI/AAAAAAAACQ8/vpRxk9SQ8oE/s400/IMG_2037.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I got a call from the Hinsdale Chamber of Commerce yesterday. Apparently, Little Miss Sock Hop (Ava) was a contest winner at the Fall Festival Costume Contest. How cute is that? Apparently, there is a prize waiting for us at the office! Pretty cool considering I didn't even think they got a picture of her costume-- she was in mid-meltdown status over a lost balloon as we were filling out the form. So you can imagine, I was surprised to hear that she was chosen as a winner. I'm not complaining-- we love free loot! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qOQIXFCiN_w/TqsE_wPEf3I/AAAAAAAACRE/g6I9QXyPZn4/s1600/IMG_2052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qOQIXFCiN_w/TqsE_wPEf3I/AAAAAAAACRE/g6I9QXyPZn4/s400/IMG_2052.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unfortunately, their office was only open till noon today and we didn't make it over in time to pick up her prize.  I wonder what it could be?!?! Is it crazy to think that she might have won an iPad?? Crazy, yes... but that is just the prize-winner's-Mom's wishful thinking doing the talking. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cD3A4ZJDY_I/TqsFsaJ4N9I/AAAAAAAACRM/8EcYyYUXCrQ/s1600/IMG_1969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cD3A4ZJDY_I/TqsFsaJ4N9I/AAAAAAAACRM/8EcYyYUXCrQ/s400/IMG_1969.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I told Ava the stellar news and she didn't even flinch away from watching Dora-- &lt;i&gt;not sure what it is with that show but she LOVES it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'll be sure to keep you posted on the goods once I get my grubby paws on them.&amp;nbsp; I have every intention of going to the office on Monday-- that is, unless I'm shacking up at Hinsdale Hospital. At this point, the countdown stands at 7 more days till we meet our little man but you just never know what he has planned. I guess we'll just have to wait and see! Either way, in one week we are going to be a family of 4-- and I just can't believe it. &lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-9126151807727523116?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YhFA_HQ9-j-XkRnpnOKjTAkNuMQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YhFA_HQ9-j-XkRnpnOKjTAkNuMQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/hBCkloObNQg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/9126151807727523116/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=9126151807727523116" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/9126151807727523116?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/9126151807727523116?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/hBCkloObNQg/winner-winner-chicken-dinner.html" title="Winner Winner Chicken Dinner!" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jHSaxz49WGQ/TqsE8xZjdBI/AAAAAAAACQ8/vpRxk9SQ8oE/s72-c/IMG_2037.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/10/winner-winner-chicken-dinner.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAMSHwyeCp7ImA9WhRVGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-8909069609554945231</id><published>2011-10-24T22:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T12:26:29.290-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T12:26:29.290-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pregnancy" /><title>11 Days!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nWAV1kKFdhM/TqWnXfB-ScI/AAAAAAAACQs/FgwLJaR25_k/s1600/11days_thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nWAV1kKFdhM/TqWnXfB-ScI/AAAAAAAACQs/FgwLJaR25_k/s320/11days_thumb.jpg" width="251" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I seriously cannot believe that in 11 days (or less) I will be a Mom of 2. It's insane.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I visited the Dr again today. I found out that I am dilated an additional centimeter from last week-- which means I'm at a whopping 2cm now. She said based on the size of my belly, baby will likely be of similar size to Ava, which was a nice, little 6 lbs 3oz bundle! &lt;i&gt;Amen to that, sister!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She scheduled me for the induction, which will be November 4th-- Hard to believe that it's next Friday! And even better, our darling babysitter has switched around her schedule to babysit Ava so my Mom can come to the hospital with Ken and I. It will be great having her there this time around (I can already hear her hooting and hollering)!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My Mom is coming in on Wednesday which will be nice; we'll have time to hang out a bit before he makes his debut. And then my Sister comes on Friday, too. Talk about having a great support system in place! :)&amp;nbsp; Ava is going to go ballistic, having both my Mom and Sis here! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Best news of all??? I somehow managed to lose 4 lbs in the last week. Yahooooooooo!&amp;nbsp; &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/8457372108514105622-8909069609554945231?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HgS91Rsk05U04jabUe-s0-RFPTg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HgS91Rsk05U04jabUe-s0-RFPTg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/CGKsKw9q-58" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/8909069609554945231/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=8909069609554945231" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/8909069609554945231?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/8909069609554945231?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/CGKsKw9q-58/11-days.html" title="11 Days!" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nWAV1kKFdhM/TqWnXfB-ScI/AAAAAAAACQs/FgwLJaR25_k/s72-c/11days_thumb.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/10/11-days.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAMSHw8fip7ImA9WhRVGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-5809912914602931626</id><published>2011-10-20T23:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T12:26:29.276-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T12:26:29.276-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pregnancy" /><title>Consider yourself warned</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5uqKrMrkuN8/TqDv5lLGnVI/AAAAAAAACQc/ybRWIMj5C9c/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5uqKrMrkuN8/TqDv5lLGnVI/AAAAAAAACQc/ybRWIMj5C9c/s320/photo.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
What I'm showing you is certainly NOT pretty. This is what I am surprised with on a DAILY basis by our dogs. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And not only is it poo. It's puke too. Each day we have piles to clean-up. &lt;i&gt;Now that I think of it-- A stock purchase in Brawny and Lysol would have been GENIUS.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So my question is this: How long would &lt;i&gt;YOU&lt;/i&gt; put up with this?? Seriously! How long?? These dogs are so big they might as well be clydesdale horses-- you can imagine how HUGE their "messes" are. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They've been to the vet. They've gotten anxiety medicine. They don't have any stomach issues. They spend most of the day outside, in our fenced in yard-- which means they are getting PLENTY of exercise. Yet, they will come right inside and %$*# all over our house, the moment they come in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess I should be thankful that they choose to do it in the bathrooms or on the hardwood floor. Thoughtful little bastards. Wait-- who the hell am I kidding?! This is re-God-damn-diculous. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We've paid for ACL surgeries for both dogs and spent countless dollars on top notch training, boarding, etc. Where does it end? I do not want to get rid of them. But at the same time, I will NOT clean up crap after my daughter, soon to be born son and 2 GROWN DOGS. I've had it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-5809912914602931626?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ClBCc9SQziHFkb60ipxyK6ghdVs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ClBCc9SQziHFkb60ipxyK6ghdVs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/c9uXxlymN9s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/5809912914602931626/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=5809912914602931626" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/5809912914602931626?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/5809912914602931626?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/c9uXxlymN9s/consider-yourself-warned.html" title="Consider yourself warned" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5uqKrMrkuN8/TqDv5lLGnVI/AAAAAAAACQc/ybRWIMj5C9c/s72-c/photo.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/10/consider-yourself-warned.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAMSHwzfCp7ImA9WhRVGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-7930435282107283551</id><published>2011-10-19T11:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T12:26:29.284-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T12:26:29.284-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pregnancy" /><title>False Alarm</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lcHr8bMz92E/Tp74KUorqUI/AAAAAAAACQE/vVGza7_Gk0M/s1600/IMG_1629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lcHr8bMz92E/Tp74KUorqUI/AAAAAAAACQE/vVGza7_Gk0M/s400/IMG_1629.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Well that was interesting. Last night was spent at Hinsdale Hospital for what was determined to be false labor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just like my labor with Ava, I woke up in the middle of the night and was feeling contractions every few minutes. After 10 or so contractions I called the Dr who (based on my Mach-3-delivery-speed with Ava) suggested I come in to get checked out. We got everything (and everyone -- including our happy-to-be-awake-in-the-middle-of-the-night little girl) loaded into the car and were on our way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They checked me at the hospital and the nurse said that I was "maybe 1 cm dilated". WHAT?!? They hooked me up to the machines (did I mention how much I hate that damn blood pressure cuff???? I forgot how annoying that thing was!). The contractions were regular, occuring every 3 minutes or so.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They suggested I walk the halls of the hospital to see if it would help in getting things moving. So Miss Ava and I walked the halls, stopping every so often to check out the babies in the nursery-- to which she would run to the window and say, "Ohhhh, Babies!! So cute!!!". As usual, she became a local celebrity in no time, charming everyone with her dancing and silly sayings.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She thought this particular 3 AM field trip was fun-- She got to be up and about in the middle of the night, eating loads of shaved ice, watching Little Einsteins in a hospital bed with Mommy and eating mini-wheats, crackers and gummi worms (hey, don't judge... it was all I had in my bag of tricks (diaper bag)).&lt;br /&gt;
. &lt;br /&gt;
Well, after an hour of walking, I was checked again-- and there was "no change". So, we were sent home. I felt silly and stupid for causing a false alarm-- but the other part of me didn't want to take any chances. As the Dr said, "Hey, it's better than delivering in the car!". Good point. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We took a detour thru McDonald's on our way home. We were all starving! We got home around 7:00 and after breakfast, everyone was back to bed to catch up on some zzzz's.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As annoying as it was to go thru all of that, it was exciting too. My favorite part was the memory I now have of Ava and I walking the halls of the hospital at 4 am (while her dad laid in my hospital bed, trying to sleep), trying to coerce her little brother into making his grand entrance. She was my little buddy. And we just LOVED seeing those tiny, sweet babies. It's hard to believe that in 16 days (or less) one of those little beds will contain our baby boy.&amp;nbsp; One of these days... but not today. ;-/&lt;br /&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/8457372108514105622-7930435282107283551?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CHESTPGhHA7jQpf_E3DS_VVAvlI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CHESTPGhHA7jQpf_E3DS_VVAvlI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CHESTPGhHA7jQpf_E3DS_VVAvlI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CHESTPGhHA7jQpf_E3DS_VVAvlI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/uR40qqtWKuU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/7930435282107283551/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=7930435282107283551" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/7930435282107283551?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/7930435282107283551?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/uR40qqtWKuU/false-alarm.html" title="False Alarm" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lcHr8bMz92E/Tp74KUorqUI/AAAAAAAACQE/vVGza7_Gk0M/s72-c/IMG_1629.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/10/false-alarm.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAMSHw9cSp7ImA9WhRVGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-2983350863582242562</id><published>2011-10-18T12:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T12:26:29.269-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T12:26:29.269-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pregnancy" /><title>Santa for Hire!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ngVX4ZGUJFc/Tp2txomRP2I/AAAAAAAACP0/6veQoDH46ns/s1600/title_santa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="129" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ngVX4ZGUJFc/Tp2txomRP2I/AAAAAAAACP0/6veQoDH46ns/s200/title_santa.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Well, it looks as though I have thought of the perfect way to get some extra holiday cash! I will be pimping myself out as a "Santa for Hire".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What sprurred this great idea? My 37 week Dr appointment. I've now gained 39 %$#*@ pounds!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
39!!!!&amp;nbsp; *#$&amp;amp;@#!!!!!!!!!!! I can't believe I'm even telling you this. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With Ava, I gained a total of 26 lbs. How on earth is it that I'm up 13 lbs from last time with 2 1/2 more weeks to go...? And, on top of it all, I've been sick (nonstop vomit should mean weight loss, right?!) and chasing a toddler around. It makes no damn sense. NONE!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm sure my cookie obsession doesn't help. But other than the cookies, I've been eating pretty similarly to how I did when I was carrying Ava...? So why all the extra chubba-lub?! I don't understand it. I don't feel like I look bigger, either....? I mean, my belly is definitely sticking out further.. but that's about it. And all my maternity clothes fit me exactly as they did the first time around. Sta-range, I tell you! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I told my husband he started laughing-- but in a way that was like, "Holy shit!! Bwwaaaaahaaaa!&amp;nbsp; That's hilarious!! You're a god damn cow!"... and then proceeded to tell me he thinks I'm beautiful (I call bullshit). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So not only did I realize that I have gained a massive amont of weight, but I also learned that I have made ZERO progress with getting this baby out of me before our scheduled induction date of 11/4. 0% dilated. 0% effaced.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
FML.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So it looks like I will most likely be waiting 17 more days until we meet our baby boy... 408 more hours... but who's counting?! ;-)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess that gives me time to get my Santa costume in order. &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/-1QLu0WNIqFs/Tp2y7lRM53I/AAAAAAAACP8/aMBOAmdCStM/s1600/drunk-santa-pictures-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="275" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1QLu0WNIqFs/Tp2y7lRM53I/AAAAAAAACP8/aMBOAmdCStM/s400/drunk-santa-pictures-18.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-2983350863582242562?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kmzskM5Tvsin27w_n93ClDZT0iM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kmzskM5Tvsin27w_n93ClDZT0iM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kmzskM5Tvsin27w_n93ClDZT0iM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kmzskM5Tvsin27w_n93ClDZT0iM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/xIz6ihfaJZo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/2983350863582242562/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=2983350863582242562" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/2983350863582242562?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/2983350863582242562?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/xIz6ihfaJZo/santa-for-hire.html" title="Santa for Hire!" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ngVX4ZGUJFc/Tp2txomRP2I/AAAAAAAACP0/6veQoDH46ns/s72-c/title_santa.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/10/santa-for-hire.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UGSX48eip7ImA9WhdbFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-5778224303052163883</id><published>2011-10-13T21:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T07:27:08.072-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-14T07:27:08.072-05:00</app:edited><title>Progress on the Baby Nursery</title><content type="html">Arrrrrgh you ready for this?!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Baby Boy is going to have a pirate theme nursery! It started out as a nautical theme--but after too much online shopping searching for design inspiration, I took it a step further to "Baby Boy Bucaneer"!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I should give most of the credit to &lt;a href="http://pinterest.com/kristi_gilbert/"&gt;Pinterest&lt;/a&gt; for inspiring me to take on a lot of these projects on my own. Otherwise, I would have done what I normally do: shop until I find the perfect items to complete his room (translation: spending a small fortune).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, for his room I have been hard at work-- buying things and making them unique by putting my own little touch on them. Here are a few of the things I've created thus far:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WawGKWo3xgM/TpeToIdAqLI/AAAAAAAACOA/efGddjKEAeg/s400/IMG_1464.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I took Ava's old mobile (PBK Fairy Mobile) and revamped it: I cut off the fairies and instead glued little wooden sea-life themed appliques to the end of the strings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mi_3AQziLac/TpeTwbHYSDI/AAAAAAAACOo/sG3shQWToYA/s1600/IMG_1513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mi_3AQziLac/TpeTwbHYSDI/AAAAAAAACOo/sG3shQWToYA/s400/IMG_1513.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I think it turned out pretty cute! And best of all-- it's one of a kind!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j4UPNtb-4q8/TpeTgA8ZCzI/AAAAAAAACNY/uILBmZY7Ax4/s1600/IMG_3652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j4UPNtb-4q8/TpeTgA8ZCzI/AAAAAAAACNY/uILBmZY7Ax4/s400/IMG_3652.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Little pirate ship I found at Michaels for $3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bNam6p7wwdY/TpeTjCcrIPI/AAAAAAAACNo/qNrOkyguXB8/s1600/IMG_3658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bNam6p7wwdY/TpeTjCcrIPI/AAAAAAAACNo/qNrOkyguXB8/s400/IMG_3658.jpg" width="298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;... I spray painted it red...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zYdNi07myXY/TpeTy4StrGI/AAAAAAAACOw/jpxah5gqP8A/s1600/IMG_1514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zYdNi07myXY/TpeTy4StrGI/AAAAAAAACOw/jpxah5gqP8A/s400/IMG_1514.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;... and used some model paints to finish it. It's not perfect but I think that gives it even more character! ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y7yL9cYvHuA/TpeT0w56OGI/AAAAAAAACO4/4pS8T9XRxO0/s1600/IMG_1516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y3UPn-xugpI/TpeTe9dpMEI/AAAAAAAACNQ/qxThP-L-9Aw/s1600/IMG_3651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="298" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y3UPn-xugpI/TpeTe9dpMEI/AAAAAAAACNQ/qxThP-L-9Aw/s400/IMG_3651.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;These were naked pine shelves that I purchased at Michaels. After some paint and primer they were ready to go!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g6QGrESDPAc/TpeTl-dYX9I/AAAAAAAACN4/3CeMrR4gYn0/s1600/IMG_1462.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g6QGrESDPAc/TpeTl-dYX9I/AAAAAAAACN4/3CeMrR4gYn0/s400/IMG_1462.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I
 put the pegged shelf above his changing dresser. I found the letters 
for his name at Land of Nod and used twine to string them together. With
 the fish net behind his name, it looks nautcal-ish, right?! I just 
can't decide if I like the net/ letters better over his closet. We'll 
see what I decide... I change my mind 100x a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aLBS4YkVoOU/TpeTdQo63LI/AAAAAAAACNI/grcCxAFaQaY/s1600/IMG_3644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="298" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aLBS4YkVoOU/TpeTdQo63LI/AAAAAAAACNI/grcCxAFaQaY/s400/IMG_3644.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Pine chest that I spray-painted red...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sWdgf-5hhTY/TpeTrKhipYI/AAAAAAAACOM/SWAqtxEd5qg/s1600/IMG_1506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sWdgf-5hhTY/TpeTrKhipYI/AAAAAAAACOM/SWAqtxEd5qg/s400/IMG_1506.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;... and glued sea-life-appliques...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1RRbR2mf8nU/TpeT5ecf1iI/AAAAAAAACPM/-HrDDKm3b4Q/s1600/IMG_1522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1RRbR2mf8nU/TpeT5ecf1iI/AAAAAAAACPM/-HrDDKm3b4Q/s400/IMG_1522.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;... and added some pirate treasure for good measure!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y9FTTY5o8Eo/TpeTs_vK7HI/AAAAAAAACOU/rIw2_ACQFbk/s1600/IMG_1508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y9FTTY5o8Eo/TpeTs_vK7HI/AAAAAAAACOU/rIw2_ACQFbk/s400/IMG_1508.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Wall decal for the entry wall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;(Did you know I sell wall decals for Uppercase Living????!!!! Yep! &lt;a href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/p/my-shop.html"&gt;Shop away&lt;/a&gt;, Matey!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2hEHVMk98lI/TpeTjxdazfI/AAAAAAAACNw/kk_9xeaqkhM/s1600/IMG_3662.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2hEHVMk98lI/TpeTjxdazfI/AAAAAAAACNw/kk_9xeaqkhM/s400/IMG_3662.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Baby Boy wanted in on the action... so much for my Ohio State shirt! Looks like it will be my painting shirt from here on out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
So there you have it! I've made a lot more progress and completed even more projects than you can see on this post-- however these are the only items I've photographed. I have a long way to go, but it's definitely taking shape. The final touch will be the canvas that my darling Mom has painted. Here is the pic I emailed her for inspiration:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_1O4KBdxqIU/Tpee3vpHmCI/AAAAAAAACPc/FBD2V9ejhvU/s1600/yhst-83532116742892_2178_11443376870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="308" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_1O4KBdxqIU/Tpee3vpHmCI/AAAAAAAACPc/FBD2V9ejhvU/s400/yhst-83532116742892_2178_11443376870.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
She finished painting it a day after I sent the pic to her (crazy woman)-- talk about dedication! She has a way with painting, too... I have a feeling her version is going to kick this one's ass! In fact, she says it's one of her favorite works she's ever done (she's keeping it a surprise until her visit for his birth). I cannot wait!! It will be the cherry on top of this pirate sundae! &lt;br /&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/8457372108514105622-5778224303052163883?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VW6B1DWELf6TK4e5fkQab-GB98o/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VW6B1DWELf6TK4e5fkQab-GB98o/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VW6B1DWELf6TK4e5fkQab-GB98o/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VW6B1DWELf6TK4e5fkQab-GB98o/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/e2uIGwhrQB8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/5778224303052163883/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=5778224303052163883" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/5778224303052163883?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/5778224303052163883?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/e2uIGwhrQB8/progress-on-baby-nursery.html" title="Progress on the Baby Nursery" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WawGKWo3xgM/TpeToIdAqLI/AAAAAAAACOA/efGddjKEAeg/s72-c/IMG_1464.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/10/progress-on-baby-nursery.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EMQngzcCp7ImA9WhdbEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-5041866116259682137</id><published>2011-10-08T15:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-08T15:28:03.688-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-08T15:28:03.688-05:00</app:edited><title>Hey Amber. Bite me.</title><content type="html">&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cx8Bs4VyPcU/TpCm6xEg1BI/AAAAAAAACM4/zTNDY0SWTxk/s1600/TC_VTv7ZtOCn0FrPx3fB-Tp52SFPOlmb6TS0gOjfrT1fScYt--Hg8ebcMrQPKZF8OkxR_O-Qi8ihY0S_NmR0laLSIzyX8E3aICNgkySpuxUcny_OWJWI5ws5lagTDLKhDprzBeITQa5DBRBruKbgdYrjj4_BgMUwQ9qwC-fA4-9KqWEj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cx8Bs4VyPcU/TpCm6xEg1BI/AAAAAAAACM4/zTNDY0SWTxk/s1600/TC_VTv7ZtOCn0FrPx3fB-Tp52SFPOlmb6TS0gOjfrT1fScYt--Hg8ebcMrQPKZF8OkxR_O-Qi8ihY0S_NmR0laLSIzyX8E3aICNgkySpuxUcny_OWJWI5ws5lagTDLKhDprzBeITQa5DBRBruKbgdYrjj4_BgMUwQ9qwC-fA4-9KqWEj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;JJ Cole Urban BundleMe&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Recently,&amp;nbsp; I put up my first posting on Craigslist in the hopes to sell a few girly-baby items. I had never done it before but I thought I would test the waters since I'd heard so many positive things about it from family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lucky for me, I got a response right away from someone that was interested in purchasing our JJ Cole Urban BundleMe for $30 (retails for about $45).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let's just call her Amber (since that is her name).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Via back-and-forth emails, Amber agreed to come to our house on Saturday at noon (TODAY). When we were deciding on a time, I had explained that it was important she be punctual/ as close to 12 as possible because Ava's naptime was between 1-4 and if she were to come during that time, the dogs would go ballistic and wake Ava.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She said that wouldn't be a problem and had even agreed to bring cash like I had requested.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So this morning, I dropped off my cookies for Juniors and then we went 
to the DuPage Children's Museum in Naperville. Around 11:00, we raced 
home to make sure we didn't miss Amber. In preparation for her arrival, I washed, dried and neatly folded all the items this morning-- and had them waiting for her in the foyer. This way, I could show her everything quickly and allow her to be on her way.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Everything was ready! We were just waiting on Amber at this point.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;12:00 PM comes and goes. No Amber. &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;12:10- I email Amber- "Are you still coming?"&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;12:11-&amp;nbsp; I call Amber and leave a voicemail: &lt;i&gt;"Hi Amber- This is Kristi. The person that is going to sell you the Bundleme....? I need to know if you're coming or if something came up... blah, blah, blah"&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;12:30- I call Amber again. I get voicemail. I don't leave a message.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;1:00- Still no sign of Amber.I decide that when I wake up from taking my own nap, I will write her a nasty message about how inconsiderate it is to waste people's time and rude to not have the decency to at least call and tell me she wasn't coming.&lt;br /&gt;1:40- My phone rings:&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt; (sounding like a 14 year old idiot): &lt;i&gt;"Hi. Um yeah. I missed some calls from this number while I was napping...?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Yes. That's because I called you. You were supposed to be here to pick up the Bundleme at NOON."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Oh yeah. ha ha ha. I just woke up and I was like- wait, who is this calling me?! ha ha ha. Yeah, hi. This is Amber."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Hi."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Yeah. Um, I guess&amp;nbsp; I can come and get that from you. I don't know why my boyfriend didn't wake me up....? He's been sleeping, too. ha ha ha. I just saw that I missed these two calls from the same number so I wanted to see who it was. Ha ha ha." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me: &lt;/b&gt;(Hands in the air, making a WTF face and making gestures that scream I DON'T NEED DETAILS YOU INCONSIDERATE&amp;nbsp; ________! Are you coming or not?!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"So ..... I can.... but....... then....."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Wait, you're cutting out. I think we have a bad connection."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"I'll call...back...&amp;nbsp; my house phone"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
10 minutes pass and I'm thinking: OMG. That little slore isn't going to call me back!!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(RING! RING!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Hello...?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;Hi. It's Amber. Sorry. All of my phones are acting up 'round here. Yeah, so I just need to wake up my boyfriend and see if he can bring me out there. He is sleeping pretty heavily so I'll have to see if I can get him up. What time is good for you?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Well, I suppose we could shoot for 4:00. Could you be here by then?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;Yeah... Um, I'll have to check with my boyfriend but I think we can shoot for that."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;i&gt; "No. I kind of need to know if you will be here at 4:00 or not. I have other things to do and we aren't just sitting around all day. We have a babysitter coming at 6:00 and we won't be around tonight, etc."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Oh-- Okay &lt;/i&gt;(sounding a bit surprised that I was looking for an ACTUAL TIME (translation: dumbshit)). &lt;i&gt;Well, I will try and wake him up and call you back to let you know."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: (ready to strangle this wench) &lt;i&gt;Ok...? Just call me back then. &lt;/i&gt;(flipping off the air with my middle finger!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
10 minutes later (RING! RING!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Hello...?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Hi. It's Amber. The one that is calling about the Bundleme."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Yes. I know who this is" (&lt;/i&gt;I have caller ID you f-ing idiot) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Yeah. Um, I tried to wake up my boyfriend like 10 times and, ha ha ha, he won't get up! I don't know what's wrong with him. Ha ha ha! He keeps mumbling at me and I can't even make out what he's sayin'. Ha Ha Ha. I guess he was up all night playing video games and he hasn't slept at all."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: (too pissed to even speak at this point. This little skeez is making me claw my bloody eyes out)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"I would drive but I'm afraid to, in my condition and all. You know-- I don't want to go into labor or anything while I'm driving. So, I think I'm gonna call my Mom now and see if maybe she can take me instead because he ain't wakin' up."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;Okay....?&lt;/i&gt; (at this point, I'm trying to slice my wrists with one of Ava's barrettes)&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"... and then I'll call you back and let you know what she says."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
10 more minutes later (RING! RING!) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;Hello...?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Hi. It's Amber. The one that is calling about the Bundleme."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Yes. I know, Amber." &lt;/i&gt;(Again- you friggin' moron-- I have caller ID) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Yeah. Um, I talked to my Mom and she can't bring me today. She said she could bring me tomorrow after church though, if that works for you."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: (rolling my eyes, shaking my head, taking deep breaths and pacing to relieve some of my anger at this dumbass)&lt;i&gt;"Maybe. What time?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;"Oh shoot. I didn't even ask her what time. Ha ha ha! Duh! I swear! Ha ha ha! I'll have to call her and call you back to let you know."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: (clenching my fists because I want to seriously go OFF on this beotch. Not only has she screwed up my entire 12-2:00 window, but now she's interfering with my nap, too) &lt;i&gt;Well, when you speak with her, make sure that are able to get a firm time on when you will be here. You said you would be here today at 12 and I never even heard from you until 1:30. I have other things going on. We like to get things done on the weekends and don't just sit around with nothing to do. I have a daughter and one on the way. So if you say you're going to come, I need you to be here at that time. I was respectful of you today by being here, organizing my day around what was supposed to be your arrival, and by having everything washed, dried and ready to go for you. I need you to be respectful of my time too." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;(crickets chirping)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;: "Okay?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Amber&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;: "Yeah, I understand. Well if for some reason it doesn't work out, I appreciate it. I'm sure your things will sell fast because they're really nice. I'll talk to my mom and see if she can give me a specific time and then I will let you know." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;i&gt;Yeah. Why don't you just let ME know what you decide to do.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm pretty sure that I won't be hearing from "Amber: the brain-dead, spending-too-much-time-on-her-back idiot" anytime soon. Stupid slore. Where do people like that come from?! Have some damn respect. If you say you're going to do something, do it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ucB_W8-NQlc/TpCrxtR3CjI/AAAAAAAACM8/PbgnhOSTrwo/s1600/dumbass-259x290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ucB_W8-NQlc/TpCrxtR3CjI/AAAAAAAACM8/PbgnhOSTrwo/s320/dumbass-259x290.jpg" width="285" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here Amber. This is your chair and this is your hat.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-5041866116259682137?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AmBbDNP2prnT9ItSdIUkJpfDFUQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AmBbDNP2prnT9ItSdIUkJpfDFUQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AmBbDNP2prnT9ItSdIUkJpfDFUQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AmBbDNP2prnT9ItSdIUkJpfDFUQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/knclcS89vHM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/5041866116259682137/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=5041866116259682137" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/5041866116259682137?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/5041866116259682137?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/knclcS89vHM/hey-amber-bite-me.html" title="Hey Amber. Bite me." /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cx8Bs4VyPcU/TpCm6xEg1BI/AAAAAAAACM4/zTNDY0SWTxk/s72-c/TC_VTv7ZtOCn0FrPx3fB-Tp52SFPOlmb6TS0gOjfrT1fScYt--Hg8ebcMrQPKZF8OkxR_O-Qi8ihY0S_NmR0laLSIzyX8E3aICNgkySpuxUcny_OWJWI5ws5lagTDLKhDprzBeITQa5DBRBruKbgdYrjj4_BgMUwQ9qwC-fA4-9KqWEj.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/10/hey-amber-bite-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IDQnsyfyp7ImA9WhdbEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-4765427164262991742</id><published>2011-10-07T21:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T21:39:33.597-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-07T21:39:33.597-05:00</app:edited><title>28 more days.</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3F9GlBHBDus/To-1gwYFd1I/AAAAAAAACM0/CfQ2pLm4WzI/s1600/28-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3F9GlBHBDus/To-1gwYFd1I/AAAAAAAACM0/CfQ2pLm4WzI/s320/28-9.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Translation:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;28 more restless nights.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;27 more mornings of nausea. &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;4 more weekends as a family of 3.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;14 more baths for Ava&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;4 more doctor appointments&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Approximately 280 more potty breaks&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;3 more date nights&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;and lastly, 28 more burrito bowls &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
... &lt;b&gt;until we meet our Baby Boy. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But who's counting?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-4765427164262991742?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VhWQHEFSJDX3Myj8zDMnWaU3FeU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VhWQHEFSJDX3Myj8zDMnWaU3FeU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VhWQHEFSJDX3Myj8zDMnWaU3FeU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VhWQHEFSJDX3Myj8zDMnWaU3FeU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/bG2jdn5SzZk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/4765427164262991742/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=4765427164262991742" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/4765427164262991742?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/4765427164262991742?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/bG2jdn5SzZk/28-more-days.html" title="28 more days." /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3F9GlBHBDus/To-1gwYFd1I/AAAAAAAACM0/CfQ2pLm4WzI/s72-c/28-9.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/10/28-more-days.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIDSXs9cCp7ImA9WhdUGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-5657337968098751188</id><published>2011-10-06T23:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T06:22:58.568-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-07T06:22:58.568-05:00</app:edited><title>Be Still My Heart.</title><content type="html">&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;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U3asmrhfmsI/To563Kc1RcI/AAAAAAAACMw/GYWiHrsjjAI/s1600/IMG_3495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U3asmrhfmsI/To563Kc1RcI/AAAAAAAACMw/GYWiHrsjjAI/s320/IMG_3495.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tmQ3qvHo65Y/To50RTX9nzI/AAAAAAAACMo/8BgZQGeCjQ0/s1600/IMG_3497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tmQ3qvHo65Y/To50RTX9nzI/AAAAAAAACMo/8BgZQGeCjQ0/s320/IMG_3497.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I enrolled Ava in dance class today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yep. You heard it correctly. Next Thursday, my tiny-little-two-year-old will begin classes at &lt;a href="http://www.impactdancestudio.com/"&gt;Impact Dance Studio&lt;/a&gt;. The class is called Twinkle Tots and is a 45-minute session that she will learn both ballet and tap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am so excited I can barely stand it. I've already been shopping online for tiny leotards and tights. They're so small. I can't keep from laughing from my silly giddy-ness. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I haven't ordered her shoes yet because we are waiting to get measured at her first lesson-- But can you just imagine how tiny they will be?!?! OMG. I am MELTING. And the teeny-weeny tap shoes? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I asked if there is a dress code and she is supposed to wear a black leotard and pink tights (skirts are optional). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I cannot wait. I highly doubt I'll be able to sleep at all on Wednesday night. And sadly, like most experiences I get overly excited about... it will probably end up in a complete and utter disaster. I just say this because that's how it always goes; I think she senses my excitement and it makes her nervous or something. I'm sure that she'll instead be the booger picking spaz that won't sit still and refuses to follow directions. &lt;i&gt;No clue where she would learn such behavior...?!?!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We will just have to wait and see how it goes. And yes. Regardless of her behavior or dance ability, I'll likely be the "Dance Mom" taking a million pics while cheering behind the glass (holding home-made signs that say "GO AVA!"). I know, I know. I'm going to scar this kid for life. Oh well. It's time she just gets used to it. And the teacher had better know... Nobody puts Avey in a corner! I don't want to have a confrontation with her but trust me on this-- I will if necessary. ;-)&amp;nbsp; Oh, stop. I'm totally kidding. Geez. I'm not &lt;i&gt;THAT&lt;/i&gt; crazy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bF81FPtLMJQ/To55ZWgqmPI/AAAAAAAACMs/559XEppRw2c/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="225" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bF81FPtLMJQ/To55ZWgqmPI/AAAAAAAACMs/559XEppRw2c/s400/images.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Not up in HERE! NOT UP IN HERE!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-5657337968098751188?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/y1UzCiStgKarmGwDOfmFiyIl6Ks/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/y1UzCiStgKarmGwDOfmFiyIl6Ks/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/y1UzCiStgKarmGwDOfmFiyIl6Ks/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/y1UzCiStgKarmGwDOfmFiyIl6Ks/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/jxyk7Ob_WL8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/5657337968098751188/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=5657337968098751188" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/5657337968098751188?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/5657337968098751188?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/jxyk7Ob_WL8/be-still-my-heart.html" title="Be Still My Heart." /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U3asmrhfmsI/To563Kc1RcI/AAAAAAAACMw/GYWiHrsjjAI/s72-c/IMG_3495.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/10/be-still-my-heart.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkACRH07cSp7ImA9WhdUFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-7610540762009782314</id><published>2011-10-01T20:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T20:26:05.309-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-01T20:26:05.309-05:00</app:edited><title>The Pumpkin Farm</title><content type="html">&lt;object align="middle" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab" height="425" id="Slideshow" name="Slideshow" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.shutterfly.com/flashapps/flashslideshow/Slideshow.swf" /&gt;
&lt;param name="flashvars" value="configurl=http%3A%2F%2Fws.shutterfly.com%2Fshare%2Fexternal_slideshow_config%3Fsid%3D0AZsm7lq4cuGbso" /&gt;
&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;
&lt;embed id="Slideshow"&amp;nbsp; width="425" height="425" name="Slideshow" align="middle"&amp;nbsp; quality="high"&amp;nbsp; type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&amp;nbsp; flashvars="configurl=http%3A%2F%2Fws.shutterfly.com%2Fshare%2Fexternal_slideshow_config%3Fsid%3D0AZsm7lq4cuGbso"&amp;nbsp; pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/go/getflashplayer"&amp;nbsp; allowscriptaccess="always"&amp;nbsp; allowfullscreen="true"&amp;nbsp; bgcolor="#869ca7"&amp;nbsp; src="http://www.shutterfly.com/flashapps/flashslideshow/Slideshow.swf"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-top: 0; text-align: center; width: 425px;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0AZsm7lq4cuGbso&amp;amp;eid=118"&gt;Click here to view these pictures larger&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8457372108514105622-7610540762009782314?l=kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Tth7oLaS0ffduvC1Qo-dHFELC1E/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Tth7oLaS0ffduvC1Qo-dHFELC1E/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Tth7oLaS0ffduvC1Qo-dHFELC1E/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Tth7oLaS0ffduvC1Qo-dHFELC1E/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/WhineCheez/~4/kXjCNG4-h8M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/feeds/7610540762009782314/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8457372108514105622&amp;postID=7610540762009782314" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/7610540762009782314?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8457372108514105622/posts/default/7610540762009782314?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/WhineCheez/~3/kXjCNG4-h8M/pumpkin-farm.html" title="The Pumpkin Farm" /><author><name>Kristi Houston Gilbert</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/109284267030393251583</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bijdKkMEXQg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_xJJu9Oz9m0/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://kristi-gilbert.blogspot.com/2011/10/pumpkin-farm.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcMQno7eSp7ImA9WhdUFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8457372108514105622.post-6332807120546331286</id><published>2011-10-01T19:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T19:58:03.401-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-01T19:58:03.401-05:00</app:edited><title>Is that the best you can do?</title><content type="html">What a simple question. I sometimes wonder how many more deals and bargains I could score on a daily basis, just by asking this...? After all, it works 99% of the time, landing me a far better deal than what was originally being offered.&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/-kvhi-WCiA-s/ToenAZQDwbI/AAAAAAAACLQ/vrDgWUPgqPw/s1600/who2005ex.109235_md.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kvhi-WCiA-s/ToenAZQDwbI/AAAAAAAACLQ/vrDgWUPgqPw/s320/who2005ex.109235_md.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Case in point:&lt;br /&gt;
After a lot of thought (and advice from my dear Facebook friends), I decided to book an overnight date-night downtown during the month of January to celebrate our 5 year anniversary. We'll be celebrating with an all day, adults only date-- complete with a couples massage, dinner at &lt;a href="http://www.epicrestaurantchicago.com/"&gt;Epic&lt;/a&gt;, theatre tickets to see "&lt;a href="http://www.broadwayinchicago.com/shows_dyn.php?cmd=display_current&amp;amp;display_showtag=mammamia12"&gt;Mamma Mia&lt;/a&gt;" (sooooo-freaking-fun!), drinkies and an overnight stay at the &lt;a href="http://www.starwoodhotels.com/whotels/property/photos/index.html?propertyID=2005"&gt;W Hotel&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And the best part...? No kiddos! Which means, yours truly will get to sleep in and nurse what is sure to be a massive hangover. Halle-luyer! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anywaaaaaaaaaaay- while I was online, checking out hotel rates, I saw that we could get a King bed at the rate of $169. Just for grins, I thought I would call and see if the rep at the hotel could do any better. Sadly, he offered me a rate of $189. I simply responded (in a very nice way) with, "Yikes. Is that the best you can do?".&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Customer Service Rep:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;Hmmm, let me see.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Kristi:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;Thank you so much for your help!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Customer Service Rep:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;(after a few moments) Well, it looks here like I can offer you the same room for $112. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Kristi: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Now we're talkin' Mister!! Where do I sign?!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Customer Service Rep:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;Ha! Great! I'll be happy to book that for you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How simple was that?! It just goes to show that it doesn't hurt to ask. I do it at stores sometimes, too... "Is there a coupon out there that I could use towards this purchase?" and sometimes, the associate will take a percentage off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There's no shame in it! Try it. And if you save any money, feel free to send it my way. I need to buy diapers. :-)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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