<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628</id><updated>2026-05-30T14:48:25.694-04:00</updated><category term="baby"/><category term="family"/><category term="Photography"/><category term="Mom Tips"/><category term="Recipes"/><category term="Friday Favorites"/><category term="Frugal Tips"/><category term="Half Marathon"/><category term="Travel"/><category term="Treasury"/><category term="baby food"/><category term="Balance"/><category term="Etsy"/><category term="Holidays"/><category term="Parenting"/><category term="Weddings"/><category term="household"/><title type='text'>{thirtysomething}</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>53</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-7951293519225774494</id><published>2013-04-30T19:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-04-30T19:18:59.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perfect Parent {It&#39;s Not Me}</title><content type='html'>






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&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;

&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I spend a
lot of time thinking about the good and the bad that have come from the
internet, especially in the world of parenting. When I was pregnant, I joined
message boards that allowed me to ask my questions freely, and go through the
process with people I have never even met, some of whom now are real life
friends of mine. When I had a question about what to feed Molly in her baby
days, or what constituted a serious fever, or how to remove a tick from her scalp,
I could quickly pop online and get the answer. The internet is an amazing
resource for healthy food, healthy choices, creative activities, and advice. I’ve
learned things I probably would not have been aware of before, like what the “dirty
dozen” is, the dangers of incorrect use of a car seat, and the amazing
invention of absorbable toddler underwear. It is also full of judgment,
perfection, and never ending advice on how to be the perfect parent, and run
the perfect home, and make the most perfect decisions. I’ve learned how to be a
better parent, but have become overwhelmed by the feeling that I need to be a
perfect parent.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
You know what I say? Perfect is crap. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Not only is perfect completely unattainable, it is
unhealthy. I do not want to be a perfect parent. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I want my daughter to see me fail. Because when I fail, I
learn from my mistakes, and she will learn how to do the same. Because SHE will
fail and she will have to bounce back from her own failures.&amp;nbsp; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I want my daughter to see me get frustrated. Because it is
ok to get frustrated. Because if you do not get frustrated, you hold it inside.
Because when you hold it inside, you become a dark, unhappy person all the time
instead of just those moments when you are feeling frustrated. Because she
needs to learn how to deal with frustration, move on, and live her happy life.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I want my daughter to learn about balance. To be healthy – to
eat fruits and vegetables…and also to eat chocolate. Please, eat chocolate. To
be frugal – to save money, to have a savings account, to not live beyond her
means…but treat to treat herself from time to time. To work hard – to not be
lazy, to put effort into everything she do…but take time to relax, sit on the
beach, in the backyard, or on the couch in front of a pointless television
show.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I want my daughter to see me taking time for myself. If that’s
a few minutes spent on my phone, that’s ok. If that’s a few minutes spent
behind a closed door in the bathroom, that’s ok. If that’s a half hour out on a
run, that’s ok. If that’s a weekend away with the girls, that’s ok.
Independence is important. Independence is crucial. Seeing me, taking time for
me, teaches her the importance of taking time for herself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
I want my daughter to know that perfect is not perfect.
Perfect is not real. Life is amazing, and it comes with challenges and
struggles. How you manage the challenges is truly what defines who you are as a
person. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
Parenthood itself, is a challenge. Please, do not hold
yourself to the standard of perfection the world wide web seems to think you
need to be at. Just be normal. Just be human. Just teach your children to see
the good from the bad, and know that just by being YOU, you are perfect in
their eyes, even when you don’t feel that way.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/7951293519225774494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-perfect-parent-its-not-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/7951293519225774494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/7951293519225774494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-perfect-parent-its-not-me.html' title='The Perfect Parent {It&#39;s Not Me}'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-2951013648713421693</id><published>2013-03-26T09:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2013-03-26T10:03:40.995-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Half Marathon"/><title type='text'>5 Minutes {Half Marathon Training Check-In}</title><content type='html'>Training is going slowly, but is going. The Couch to 10K program is a three day a week program. My crazy schedule only allows me to regularly hit the gym twice a week, three if I&#39;m lucky, but I believe that twice a week is better than none a week, and although the training is slow I am amazed at the stamina I am building, and excited about the pounds that have started dropping.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I started my program four weeks ago today, and since day one, have been dreading week four of the program. Couch to 10K is an interval program, and each week of the program includes three days of the same interval training. Here&#39;s what I&#39;ve done so far:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Week 1 - Run 60 seconds, walk 90 seconds, 20 minutes total&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Week 2 - Run 90 seconds, walk 90 seconds, 20 minutes total&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Week 3 - Run 90 seconds, walk 90 seconds, run 3 minutes, walk 3 minutes, 18 minutes total&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Today began week four - run 3 minutes, walk 90 seconds, run 5 minutes, walk 3 minutes, 22 minutes total. It&#39;s the five minutes I&#39;ve been dreading since day one. Five whole minutes of running. To those of you who truly are runners, this is nothing to you, but for someone who has never ever been a runner in her entire life, five minutes of running sounds like five miles...it scared the crap out of me.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And I kicked it&#39;s ass.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
There is something that happens when you are running and you know you are going to meet a milestone. It&#39;s like that first week, on the second day when I was in my last run and didn&#39;t stop once during the any of the intervals - I wanted to stop in the middle of the track and do cartwheels and shake my booty to the Rocky music in my head because I DID IT. That&#39;s how I felt today. That&#39;s how I felt after my first five minute interval when I was beaming like an idiot on the treadmill and the old lady next to me probably thought I was losing my mind. It&#39;s how I felt at the end of my second five minute interval, when even after my phone had gone flying off of the treadmill at the poor old lady (don&#39;t worry, it missed, and I seriously need some wireless headphones), and I didn&#39;t use that as an excuse to stop - rather, I just kept an eye on my timer clicking away on the phone on the floor, stupid smile still on my face.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
That first week when I could barely run 60 seconds I wondered how I could ever run for five minutes. &amp;nbsp;Today I giggle that 60 seconds was so difficult for me. I still wonder how I will ever run for 13.1 miles, but I have to remember that small goals lead to big goals.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I can&#39;t wait until I can laugh out loud that I could only run for five minutes, but today I&#39;m going to be pretty proud of myself for meeting this little-big goal.&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/2951013648713421693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/03/5-minutes-half-marathon-training-check.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/2951013648713421693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/2951013648713421693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/03/5-minutes-half-marathon-training-check.html' title='5 Minutes {Half Marathon Training Check-In}'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-9125391107224215</id><published>2013-03-05T20:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-03-05T20:21:01.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I Cry</title><content type='html'>I don&#39;t think anything has ever made me cry as much as parenthood. There are the days when everything is so difficult, and all the rules and the listening and the patience have gone out the window. But what gets me the most, what really brings those tears to my eyes are the moments like this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBFsJBP22voloPWlH-Gkd8oQKWo6nuGeioX07KlaWtkBAbzySLLgMOGeCH5iFKlGMwEFC2sriKU64TgmJY91gPThI3yodDILBovPXwaSddBNYFgIncpahaYaPb8CHZ89Buz0CmdBAohBs/s1600/Molly-2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBFsJBP22voloPWlH-Gkd8oQKWo6nuGeioX07KlaWtkBAbzySLLgMOGeCH5iFKlGMwEFC2sriKU64TgmJY91gPThI3yodDILBovPXwaSddBNYFgIncpahaYaPb8CHZ89Buz0CmdBAohBs/s400/Molly-2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;268&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she grabs my hand, just to walk across the living room.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she stops me just before I leave her room at night to say &quot;I love you, little guy&quot;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she hugs me so hard it almost hurts.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she asks me to rock her and I feel her entire body relax.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she sits in my lap and says &quot;Sing to me mumma.&quot;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she grabs my face (literally, grabs my face) and tells me she loves me.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she sings me a song.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When that song is &quot;Mumma, mumma, she&#39;s is awesome, she is awesome.&quot;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she throws her arms around me and sways during Barney&#39;s &quot;I Love You.&quot; (It&#39;s enough to make you forget you&#39;re watching Barney).&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When I watch her play independently and use her imagination, making up stories about her toys.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she sees me and runs, full force with her arms open wide to give me a big hug.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she knows I have a headache and gently kisses my forehead and tells me &quot;There mumma, you all better now.&quot;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she is awake.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she is asleep.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;When she is.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I can&#39;t imagine my life without her.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/9125391107224215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/03/sometimes-i-cry.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/9125391107224215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/9125391107224215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/03/sometimes-i-cry.html' title='Sometimes I Cry'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBFsJBP22voloPWlH-Gkd8oQKWo6nuGeioX07KlaWtkBAbzySLLgMOGeCH5iFKlGMwEFC2sriKU64TgmJY91gPThI3yodDILBovPXwaSddBNYFgIncpahaYaPb8CHZ89Buz0CmdBAohBs/s72-c/Molly-2.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-2545404848247205955</id><published>2013-02-26T21:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-03-26T10:03:49.563-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Half Marathon"/><title type='text'>So Then I Decided to Become a Runner...</title><content type='html'>There is only one reason I am writing this blog post. Not because I want to shout to the world that I&#39;ve suddenly found this desire to go to the gym and start running, but because if I put it in words, and announce it to the world (it doesn&#39;t matter that only like 10 of you will read this), I will have to do it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve decided to run a half marathon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ll wait while you finish your giggling. No really, giggle away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve always hated running. HATED IT. We used to have to run for a full five minutes during cheering practice and I thought I was going to die. A few weeks ago though, I decided to join the gym. I had no intention of running at this gym, just simply using the elliptical and doing some weight training like I did before my wedding (and haven&#39;t done since). But one day the ellipticals were full so I thought I could probably suck it up and run a few laps around the track to warm up. It wasn&#39;t awful. I didn&#39;t want to die. I&#39;ll go so far as to say, I kind of liked it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few days later (with no further thoughts of running crossing my mind), I was stalking a friend of mine on Facebook (come on, you know you do it), and found her photos from the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.rundisney.com/princess-half-marathon/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Disney Princess Half Marathon&lt;/a&gt; last year. It looked so fun and festive, and I realized that for some crazy reason, I wanted to be a part of it. Something weird happened in my weird little brain, and I decided to start training. I downloaded a version of Couch to 10K (actually it is &lt;a href=&quot;https://itunes.apple.com/ie/app/10k-trainer-free-run-for-pink/id511600311?mt=8&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;10K Free&lt;/a&gt; and it rules), and have started training. I&#39;m on week two, so not far in, but for a girl who hated running, the fact that I have been fitted for running shoes, have purchased the appropriate running shorts, and have woken up many times in the past week excited to get to the gym and run, says a lot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Princess Half was on Friday and again the pictures were filling my newsfeed. I&#39;ve got 361 days to be able to run 13.1 miles, and it just might take me that long to actually be able to do it. But now that I&#39;ve announced it to the ten of you out there, my training is official. Feel free to send encouragement..and ice packs.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/2545404848247205955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/02/so-then-i-decided-to-become-runner.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/2545404848247205955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/2545404848247205955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/02/so-then-i-decided-to-become-runner.html' title='So Then I Decided to Become a Runner...'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-9083001304257836403</id><published>2013-02-12T20:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-02-12T20:39:13.435-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography"/><title type='text'>The Christmas Card that Never Was</title><content type='html'>Things were really crazy before Christmas. I wanted so badly to do a nice family photo for our Christmas card, but I quickly found myself running out of time and creative ideas. My best friend, and incredibly talented seamstress, Danielle from &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.etsy.com/shop/thelittlepinkpeony&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Little Pink Peony&lt;/a&gt; had just made Molly a gorgeous infinity scarf, so I decided on a whim that a picture of my cutie kiddo in her new scarf and peacoat, would make for a perfect Christmas card.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I never ended up using the photo for the card, as I did find 15 minutes later on that week to set up a tripod and get a relatively normal looking photo of the three of us and our dog for a family picture. But I keep coming back to my five minute photo shoot with Molly in front of our neighbor&#39;s tree (because they totally would not have though it was weird to look outside and see me with my huge camera taking pictures of my kid on their lawn without permission) and laughing because the outtakes are so Molly being Molly, especially when she lets me take her photo.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here are some of my favorite outtakes from our very quick December photo shoot.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVP59ROA8E9mdSfghTXdk8nUObpHomc5dvr9ZuOSVEy6cYv3w-Oea76OBjHCunoHSvhyphenhyphenj_M8Bab2FMDf1PWE2BkTfa35d95bovcnYjsPrTHYdN9P5RuRh6AxSmhincFpTFZSqPF659mI4/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVP59ROA8E9mdSfghTXdk8nUObpHomc5dvr9ZuOSVEy6cYv3w-Oea76OBjHCunoHSvhyphenhyphenj_M8Bab2FMDf1PWE2BkTfa35d95bovcnYjsPrTHYdN9P5RuRh6AxSmhincFpTFZSqPF659mI4/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-1.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The &quot;Cheese&quot; Face&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB8UVYeCvN5QWJ32tunkkbwzbXVPlDLA3bOrAFvelKtwcdrSnLfuB41u_pYfHVXD2G0mHdTjxe9dS3mzl6ZYSzOEH4-Kwab6ff_wqrvyvGV7Fy7CK5kvgOV4giDQvmexgfVroXvzEEWVY/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;425&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB8UVYeCvN5QWJ32tunkkbwzbXVPlDLA3bOrAFvelKtwcdrSnLfuB41u_pYfHVXD2G0mHdTjxe9dS3mzl6ZYSzOEH4-Kwab6ff_wqrvyvGV7Fy7CK5kvgOV4giDQvmexgfVroXvzEEWVY/s640/Molly+Dec+2012-2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The &quot;Hey, What&#39;s Over There??&quot; Face&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiadythgg8d_5jZ0A1m5yPPw6Mz0X-PO5nMyDRJTS1Kz3E5hK68xHuVZFA6bkuqCDPRf1SdaeDmdAF6U2yv0dOQ9Kk4c_8PjKmhzPa9Cuv2uHNLJwybtOFK-XPU-80x5xIywUeFuPzDdpw/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-3.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiadythgg8d_5jZ0A1m5yPPw6Mz0X-PO5nMyDRJTS1Kz3E5hK68xHuVZFA6bkuqCDPRf1SdaeDmdAF6U2yv0dOQ9Kk4c_8PjKmhzPa9Cuv2uHNLJwybtOFK-XPU-80x5xIywUeFuPzDdpw/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-3.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The &quot;I Can&#39;t Believe She is Making Me Wear This Dumb Headband&quot; Face&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4k93YjtKxj3MdC2lsh2jp3swYiKNo3gQtCAHA1C4cr78Ws4mYiHMInLJMjeDE539xXxfkodGijvy3QRMWDsu_ape7n2j1z7Be-CSLeLGJbL89I2-HFMnoE1Pm3SgvPfK9Y2KTDnG6gWU/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-4.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4k93YjtKxj3MdC2lsh2jp3swYiKNo3gQtCAHA1C4cr78Ws4mYiHMInLJMjeDE539xXxfkodGijvy3QRMWDsu_ape7n2j1z7Be-CSLeLGJbL89I2-HFMnoE1Pm3SgvPfK9Y2KTDnG6gWU/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-4.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The &quot;Hey, Why the Heck Did We Leave that Gorgeous Light??&quot; Face&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LWDuaguMWuuTRJKG1IBcttQCEWwXqXEdwr6S8Pbm3SqH4_aD8HUE_jG15535D_zjfruyBFPF7X6Biv8ipFzp2TNI4ct7D5DJGHX-dqNAQKvqy5hLL9QUamxutL9pWqX-q_UDthHmWuE/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-5.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;430&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LWDuaguMWuuTRJKG1IBcttQCEWwXqXEdwr6S8Pbm3SqH4_aD8HUE_jG15535D_zjfruyBFPF7X6Biv8ipFzp2TNI4ct7D5DJGHX-dqNAQKvqy5hLL9QUamxutL9pWqX-q_UDthHmWuE/s640/Molly+Dec+2012-5.jpg&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The &quot;You Know You Want to Give Me a Donut&quot; Face&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajbZfE3hfMqkJvskzgANYHo2nGFt0btxoBRtJfOe314ozscmvFbwFyudnPk2g9aFOUn9kGYVSx2S2Tt1VvQrt2ZVnuizD-IohAxwcRrNgB5UOKmJtASfiZ8VxB9FpgcYv8XGJVXt0lpc/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-6.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;430&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajbZfE3hfMqkJvskzgANYHo2nGFt0btxoBRtJfOe314ozscmvFbwFyudnPk2g9aFOUn9kGYVSx2S2Tt1VvQrt2ZVnuizD-IohAxwcRrNgB5UOKmJtASfiZ8VxB9FpgcYv8XGJVXt0lpc/s640/Molly+Dec+2012-6.jpg&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The &quot;Pensive&quot; Face&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDZbYKODJAUc_QKmsICFNAA2d2dB74kO4vrNqb4YOSMgFibtMqsz4AOzA7A7NMftkdvaLOLJJk0dLmknvRk3T5szYFIGxdYjahyphenhyphenrBa_wMsN6eHTL3b0TyOdTN6G81Mx5rNV0yLB8Qu4-0/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-10.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;430&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDZbYKODJAUc_QKmsICFNAA2d2dB74kO4vrNqb4YOSMgFibtMqsz4AOzA7A7NMftkdvaLOLJJk0dLmknvRk3T5szYFIGxdYjahyphenhyphenrBa_wMsN6eHTL3b0TyOdTN6G81Mx5rNV0yLB8Qu4-0/s640/Molly+Dec+2012-10.jpg&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The &quot;I&#39;m Just Going to Stand Here and Be Cute&quot; Face&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And a few of my &quot;normal&quot; favorites. :)&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU6fKE4jtzdjNOyah7wCBPb0th8DfmvvF8-yHRoVXrgDOBy7ZLekrBX9YRQ91-GJ04p5NeJoaMYJmc5DvFU9LAAz0jecK6j-D6nS-85jpOGgNp7QL2BL4mWpaQvB-etxzm2YQmRlwg8pk/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-7.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU6fKE4jtzdjNOyah7wCBPb0th8DfmvvF8-yHRoVXrgDOBy7ZLekrBX9YRQ91-GJ04p5NeJoaMYJmc5DvFU9LAAz0jecK6j-D6nS-85jpOGgNp7QL2BL4mWpaQvB-etxzm2YQmRlwg8pk/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-7.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Gi701mZarXivUmnhB4HmTzuxrr6rNW4Ysfm5gU8oApumk-mDbHD3LIQOBuWEC2h4_ITtFDI_xTFer7Scs4uMPGtxYUY6NjDpZYdJgBtqowikvzgvms2WEG_QWiTZeB1mmoXKukXm4AI/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-9.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Gi701mZarXivUmnhB4HmTzuxrr6rNW4Ysfm5gU8oApumk-mDbHD3LIQOBuWEC2h4_ITtFDI_xTFer7Scs4uMPGtxYUY6NjDpZYdJgBtqowikvzgvms2WEG_QWiTZeB1mmoXKukXm4AI/s1600/Molly+Dec+2012-9.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I&#39;m so lucky to have such an amazing kiddo, who is my most favorite model.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/9083001304257836403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-christmas-card-that-never-was.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/9083001304257836403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/9083001304257836403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-christmas-card-that-never-was.html' title='The Christmas Card that Never Was'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVP59ROA8E9mdSfghTXdk8nUObpHomc5dvr9ZuOSVEy6cYv3w-Oea76OBjHCunoHSvhyphenhyphenj_M8Bab2FMDf1PWE2BkTfa35d95bovcnYjsPrTHYdN9P5RuRh6AxSmhincFpTFZSqPF659mI4/s72-c/Molly+Dec+2012-1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-5965207763014722825</id><published>2013-02-06T08:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2013-02-06T08:32:19.917-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Showers - What Parents Really Need</title><content type='html'>I received a text this morning from a good friend. She is not yet a mom, and is heading to a baby shower this weekend. Her question was simple - &quot;can I bring non-registry items to the shower?&quot; and I probably gave her way more of an answer than she ever wanted. Last year I put together a &lt;a href=&quot;http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/05/mom-to-be-some-non-advice-advice-for.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; about what new parents should think about when creating their baby registry, and while this is similar, this post aims to help those going to a shower who are not sure what they really should purchase to help out the new family. I know I look at showers very differently post-baby than I did pre-baby and it would have been helpful to truly know what new parents need so I could give a gift that was both useful and fun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;1. Buy something off of the registry.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It seems to be common sense, but almost nobody does it. Babies are so much fun to buy for. I used to walk into Babies R Us with every intention of purchasing something off of the registry and immediately I would hear every stuffed animal, cute baby blankie, and rubber duckie call my name as I entered the store. It&#39;s important to remember that there is a reason for the registry. Yes, nail clippers and snot suckers are a bit on the boring side, but they are necessary for new little babies and all of those necessary items really add up for expecting parents. Even a few little things off of the registry coupled with something fun can really help out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;2. Buy something for toddlers.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s amazing how quickly the infant stage goes by. (I&#39;m writing that for those moms who are in week 3 and feel like they will never ever sleep again). I had no idea how soon we would need sippy cups, baby spoons, toddler toys, and 18 month clothing. If the parents are first time parents they may not see the value of &quot;older&quot; gifts, but as they are scrambling at the last minute because their kid is ready for cereal seemingly overnight, they will be incredibly grateful as they remember they are already set up for the next stage.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;3. Buy diapers - the size after the next size up.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ll preface this by saying it&#39;s really helpful to know what brand diaper the parents are going to use since this can be personal preference. It&#39;s also helpful to know if they plan to cloth or use disposables. While our intention was to cloth, it just didn&#39;t happen for us and I&#39;ll never forget the day that our daughter went up to size two and I realized someone had given us an entire box of size two diapers. It was like Christmas. Diapers are really expensive and the longer you can help those parents go without adding that to their shrinking budget, the more grateful they are bound to be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;4. Buy something for mom.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
By the time the shower rolls around, it is very likely that mom is starting to feel it. Her back hurts, she&#39;s starting to not sleep well, she&#39;s tired. At my shower, in the midst of all the cuteness, I opened up a gift certificate for a pedicure. I almost cried. I needed something that made me feel human so badly, and it was one of my favorite gifts that day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;5. Buy books.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A kid can never have enough books. We started reading to Molly every night at two months, and even at that little age, a picture book could calm her down. (Her favorite was &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.amazon.com/Black-White-Tana-Hoban/dp/0688119182&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Black on White&lt;/a&gt; by Tana Hoban - seriously, she would stop mid-scream to see the pictures). Help the parents to be ready to introduce reading early by giving books that they can read to their baby from the start. Some other favorites of Molly&#39;s in the first year were &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.amazon.com/Little-Hands-Love-Handsies-Touch/dp/1581178514&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Little Hands Love&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.amazon.com/Rainbow-Colors-Dk-Peekaboo-Publishing/dp/0756637600/ref=pd_sim_b_14&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Rainbow Colors Peekaboo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And what should you avoid purchasing? I don&#39;t want to use the word &quot;avoid&quot; because I think if you know the parents would love it or really need something, you should buy it! But be aware that they will be oversaturated with things like baby blankets, hooded towels (this was a staple gift of mine pre-kids!), socks, and clothing. And while I personally cannot resist throwing in a cute outfit, I&#39;m always sure to add something that I know they need from their registry, or something that I know they won&#39;t get much of.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At the end of the day, the most important thing is the fact that you are there for the couple and showing love to their child that you haven&#39;t even met yet. It was amazing feeling like Molly was already loved by so many people, and none of us had even met her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy gifting!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/5965207763014722825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/02/baby-showers-what-parents-really-need.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/5965207763014722825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/5965207763014722825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/02/baby-showers-what-parents-really-need.html' title='Baby Showers - What Parents Really Need'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-3202154263764180276</id><published>2013-01-30T13:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-01-30T13:11:22.230-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Balance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom Tips"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting"/><title type='text'>&quot;Me&quot; Time</title><content type='html'>When you become a mother, the first thing to go out the window (besides your waist and ability to sleep past 5am), is your time to yourself. At first, losing your &quot;me&quot; time is a necessity. There is suddenly something else in your life that is more important than you. And while this will be true for the rest of your life, eventually, the need to take care of you returns.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As a mom, you are cursed with this phenomenon called &quot;mom guilt.&quot; It&#39;s that awful feeling that you get when you take a shower and pray nobody comes in the bathroom, when you stay in bed five extra minutes even though the baby is awake, when you pee with the door closed and your toddler on the other side begging to join you, when you go to work and have to leave that amazing little person you love so much with a caretaker or family member, when you get frustrated because someone has been literally latched on to you all day long, when you decide to take the evening to watch tv instead of cleaning up the house and tackling the pile of laundry. You question any decision that allows you to take care of you, and if you&#39;re not careful, pretty soon, you forget how to take care of you all together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Welcome to my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have spent so much time over the past two and a half years taking care of everyone else. I spend my days running around like a crazy person, tackling multiple projects at once. I have had panic attacks as I worry that the 30 seconds I spend sitting on my bum could be better used sweeping the floors or just answering one more email. I&#39;ve had my days planned down to the last second, stressing out if I take an extra two minutes in the shower, because then I need to retrieve those two minutes somewhere else in my day which means I probably should not take the time to make a proper lunch, and instead will quickly grab a slice of cheese and a quick drink of water. I&#39;ve lost time just playing with my daughter because if those dishes don&#39;t get clean before she goes to bed the world just might end.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s absurd. I&#39;m losing my freaking mind. I&#39;m over it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I decided as we headed into the new year, that this would be the year I found my balance. It&#39;s a word that is coming up a lot lately. But more than finding my balance, it is about finding myself again. I&#39;ve always been a bit uptight and a lot type A, but it&#39;s starting to cross a line. I&#39;m missing out on the beauty of all of the amazing things around me - my daughter, my husband, my dog, my business, myself. To do this, there need to be rules (because I&#39;m type A, and that just doesn&#39;t go away). Here is what I have been working on over the past month:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Kiss the mom guilt goodbye (well, almost). It is OK if my husband gets up with our daughter. It is OK if I pee with the door closed. It is OK if I need to go to work. It is OK to go to the grocery store by myself. It is OK to ask for help.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Take the night off. Last fall I found myself working 7 days and 7 nights a week. I never got to recharge, and I paid the price, and my family paid the price. I&#39;m setting boundaries now while my work life is a bit slower in hopes that when my busy season picks up, a modified routine will be easier to adopt.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Go to the gym. I went to the gym for the first time in 5.5 years this week. It was amazing. I never really loved the gym, but now I&#39;m realizing that at the gym, nobody needs me, except for me. I can&#39;t read my email. I can&#39;t make a meal. I can&#39;t clean the house. I can&#39;t edit photos. I CAN listen to some awesome music, read a book, watch a video, and visualize myself getting skinny. I CAN be in my own head for an hour and truly 100% focus on what I need to do for me.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Put down my phone. My phone plays such a huge part in feeling like I am being pulled in 100 directions. It beeps all.the.time. I&#39;m going to tell you a secret - &lt;i&gt;are you ready??&lt;/i&gt; - if you don&#39;t look at Facebook for an hour, and if you don&#39;t respond to a client email in 5 minutes or less, nobody is going to die. True story.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Play. I&#39;ve realized how much I tell my daughter &quot;in just a second...&quot; &quot;after I do so and so..&quot; &quot;I just need to do this one thing and then I&#39;ll come play...&quot; The thing is, none of the other things I have to do is as important as playing with my daughter. Plus, she makes me laugh so hard it hurts, and that is good for my soul. Playing with her is &quot;me&quot; time.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Hang out with my husband. We are both in graduate school. We are both parents. We both work full time. We have a million priorities, and for awhile we forgot to prioritize us. Spending time with my husband counts as &quot;me&quot; time. When we focus on us, and not the crazy that is all around us, we return to that silly happy we were when we first met 8 years ago, that silly happy we struggle to find between our insane class schedule, time with our daughter, house priorities, and work. When we are &quot;on&quot; he reminds me who I am and gives me the confidence to believe in myself as me and who I fundamentally want to be as a person.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It&#39;s a lot of goals, but with a big payoff. Moms out there - don&#39;t lose you. And when you realize it&#39;s happening, get it back. Because all of those things that pull you away from who you are are the things that need the awesome person you always have been. Take the time to find yourself because it IS about you, as much as you feel like it no longer should be.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/3202154263764180276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/01/me-time.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/3202154263764180276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/3202154263764180276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/01/me-time.html' title='&quot;Me&quot; Time'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-1798906381524703069</id><published>2013-01-27T07:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-01-27T07:27:05.600-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My &quot;Soft&quot; Re-Opening</title><content type='html'>Yes, I&#39;m alive.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What a ride the past 8.5 months have been. When I transitioned out of my full time job to running my own business, I had no idea how long it would take to truly find my balance. My last post was actually about balance, just a week after I started working for myself. Eight months later I am just now starting to find my groove, create some priorities, and finally be ready to blog again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m going to consider this my &quot;soft re-opening&quot; to my blog. I&#39;m not going to promote it, but I am going to make it a goal to write at least once a week as I try to re-incorporate personal blogging into my life. I&#39;m excited to share my stories of parenthood, business ownership, and life in general, and I hope you all will jump back on board, as I complete this almost year long transition process.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/1798906381524703069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-soft-re-opening.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/1798906381524703069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/1798906381524703069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-soft-re-opening.html' title='My &quot;Soft&quot; Re-Opening'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-7785353373586300828</id><published>2012-05-21T21:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-21T21:32:04.684-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding My New Balance</title><content type='html'>Today is the first day of my second week on my new job. I am officially a work-at-home mom, running my photography business, going to school to get my MBA, and of course, taking care of my little munchkin! You can read more about my decision on my photography &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.kristinaobrien.com/?p=3740&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;. I&#39;m still in shock that I am officially self-employed and I get to spend my time doing the things I love most. I feel so incredibly blessed and lucky.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As with most things in life, this transition is requiring me to consider balance. Balance is something I&#39;ve struggled with for a long time now, which is why I felt the need to grow my business and work for myself. Working a 40 hour work week, running a business, taking care of a baby, a husband, a cat, a dog, and a house, will only last you so long before you break into a cold sweat every night and think you&#39;re going to have a heart attack. I know, because I was just about there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One week in, and I&#39;m realizing how much my life has already changed. Little things that I took for granted, like a schedule, or a work calendar, or my standard work outfits are all over the place now. Instead of having very little time to do the things I want to do, I have all the time in the world to do everything - and everything is a lot. My business is growing - as are my kiddo and the amount of reading I have to do for school. The last thing I ever expected was to feel overwhelmed by this change. I didn&#39;t expect to be more off-balance before becoming more balanced.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s like cleaning the house - you start with something simple, and before you know it, the entire contents of that wretched junk closet are in your living room. It gets more organized eventually, but the room and the closet get a bit messier before they get cleaner.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m excited to find my new balance. I also know it will be a process, and may include a few more of those cold sweats before things become their new &quot;normal.&quot; I do know though, that when I get there this change will be one of the best things I&#39;ve ever done.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/7785353373586300828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/05/finding-my-new-balance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/7785353373586300828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/7785353373586300828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/05/finding-my-new-balance.html' title='Finding My New Balance'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-5187443158942822652</id><published>2012-04-16T11:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-16T11:11:56.763-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Recipes"/><title type='text'>What&#39;s for Dinner? Crock Pot Lasagna</title><content type='html'>This weekend I had a photo shoot late in the afternoon. I knew there was a chance that I may not be able to make it back in time for dinner, and wanted to have something ready to go for my husband and kiddo. I needed a quick and easy crockpot meal, that required zero additional steps once everything was in the pot. Of course, I turned to Pinterest, and found a bazillion pins for crock pot lasagna. I&#39;ve seen this before and turned my nose up to it, because really, who the heck makes lasagna in a crock pot? But I was desperate, so I threw it together, crossed all my crossables, and fully intended to pick up a pizza on the way home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was awesome. In fact, I&#39;ll say it was the best lasagna I&#39;ve ever had. (Sorry mom). Slow cookers are great because they can be convenient, but are also wonderful because they give food so much more flavor. I even forgot the ricotta cheese, and it was still awesome. (By the way, if you ever do that - just double the mozzarella, parmesan, and egg, and add a little sauce to the mix to keep it moist). It&#39;s a quick cook in the crock pot, so this isn&#39;t a leave it all day meal, but if you need something quick and easy and will be gone for a few hours, this rules.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Crock Pot Lasagna&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWA5rU7TvmUW_tJh_r2x8IpFPfbLED9mYssJPQtGhYJ2SfVmGS4TNziXXiCS1NC3NeFboDajpd_4eL5u9euYibdjZFBnE2m304Eg4vUJFhpoy81-f8RCes6mBpV0rOfISVZVlx0KWdwXs/s1600/Slow-Cooker-Lasagne-56811KC.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWA5rU7TvmUW_tJh_r2x8IpFPfbLED9mYssJPQtGhYJ2SfVmGS4TNziXXiCS1NC3NeFboDajpd_4eL5u9euYibdjZFBnE2m304Eg4vUJFhpoy81-f8RCes6mBpV0rOfISVZVlx0KWdwXs/s1600/Slow-Cooker-Lasagne-56811KC.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Photo Credit - Kraft Foods&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;u&gt;Ingredients&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;1lb ground turkey or lean ground beef&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;1 jar pasta sauce (about 2.75 cups)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;1 cup water&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;1.75 cups ricotta cheese&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;1.75 cups mozzarella cheese, divided&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;1/4 cup parmesan cheese, divided&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;1 egg&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;2 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;6 lasagna noodles, uncooked&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;Directions&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Brown meat in a large skillet and drain.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Stir in pasta sauce and water, warm slightly.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Mix ricotta, 1.5 cups mozzarella, 2 tbsp parmesan, egg, and parsley.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Spoon 1 cup of meat sauce into slow cooker.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Layer as follows - noodles (break to fit), cheese, sauce, noodles, cheese, sauce, noodles, sauce, cheese (or really, however you want to layer it). I topped it with more mozzarella and parmesan.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Cover with lid.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Cook on low heat. This part will depend on your crock pot. The recipe calls for 4-6 hours, mine took about 3 hours.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Source: &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.kraftcanada.com/en/recipes/slow-cooker-lasagne-114256.aspx&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Kraft Foods&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/u&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/5187443158942822652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/04/whats-for-dinner-crock-pot-lasagna.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/5187443158942822652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/5187443158942822652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/04/whats-for-dinner-crock-pot-lasagna.html' title='What&#39;s for Dinner? Crock Pot Lasagna'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWA5rU7TvmUW_tJh_r2x8IpFPfbLED9mYssJPQtGhYJ2SfVmGS4TNziXXiCS1NC3NeFboDajpd_4eL5u9euYibdjZFBnE2m304Eg4vUJFhpoy81-f8RCes6mBpV0rOfISVZVlx0KWdwXs/s72-c/Slow-Cooker-Lasagne-56811KC.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-2550718007682845832</id><published>2012-04-12T08:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-13T20:44:42.165-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom Tips"/><title type='text'>Motherhood is Not a Competition</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A few weeks ago I saw a quote on Pinterest. It read &quot;Good moms have sticky floors, messy kitchens, laundry piles, dirty ovens, and happy kids.&quot; Looking around my house with floors that haven&#39;t seen a mop in weeks, stainless steel that hasn&#39;t seen love in months, and an overflowing laundry basket, I re-pinned it. It made me feel better.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This morning I popped onto Pinterest (dangerous when you&#39;re in a time crunch, by the way). And saw the same quote. The &quot;pinner&quot; had captioned it with &quot;This quote really pisses me off! I have clean floors, folded laundry, toys put away, family fed, clean bathrooms (most days anyway...) Does that make me a bad mom, or just good at time management and organization????&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Before I go any further, I need to say that the pinner, and fellow commenters are good friends of mine. They will read this post. I have SO much respect for them, and this post is in no way aimed at them directly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The hair on my back went up. My pinning friends are stay-at-home moms. My working mom defense went on full alert. I&#39;m good at time management and organization. I also work two jobs, work 7 days a week, and on weekdays, work anywhere from 12-15 hours, with travel thrown in. We do this and still barely make ends meet. I work my ass off, and yes, I have dirty floors, and yes, I am a good mom.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hopped in the shower, fuming quite a bit at what I&#39;d just seen, and I realized, this whole thing, this whole quote, this whole competition between mothers, is just freaking ridiculous. Of COURSE the quote made my friends angry. I saw a bumper sticker a few weeks ago that said &quot;People who work hard, vote Republican.&quot; Being a very hard working democrat, I wanted to drive the car off the road. It hurt my feelings. So for my SAHM friends, who also work very hard on raising their kids and keeping their homes, I can see how the quote would make them feel that their clean floors and folded laundry makes them poor mothers. For the record, it&#39;s not true.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why are moms so competitive?? Is it because we are incredibly insecure? Or is it because we are crazy control freaks who feel like the entire world needs to agree with our every move as parents and wives? I&#39;ve never ever met a mom who doesn&#39;t have a little snark in them about the way another mom parents. I think some of it is jealousy (most days I would give anything to be able to have the time to be with my kiddo all day and have a cleaner house), but I think a lot of it is that we need to believe that what we are doing is the best possible thing for our children.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Newsflash mommies - it is. You do what is best for YOUR children, and YOUR family. You do what you NEED to do for YOUR children and YOUR family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, moms of the world (myself included), get off your high horses. It doesn&#39;t matter if you stay at home, work, breastfeed, bottle feed, co-sleep, baby wear, cry it out, ferber, schedule naps, play outside, or wear freaking wool in the summer and hide in a cave with bears. Stop being so damn defensive. Be happy with your choices, and respect others&#39; choices. You have nothing to prove to anyone but yourselves.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve removed the dirty floors pin from my Pinterest page. I know my mom friends with clean floors, folded laundry and happy kiddos are just as good of a mom as those of us (SAHM and working moms) whose homes may not be so neat and tidy. In the end, it doesn&#39;t matter, and judging others for their parenting choices and housekeeping skills is just ridiculous. In the end, we all have one thing in common - we love our kids. Motherhood is such an incredible gift - embrace that you get to share this gift with other moms. It really would make this whole &quot;mom world&quot; much more enjoyable.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/2550718007682845832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/04/motherhood-is-not-competition.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/2550718007682845832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/2550718007682845832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/04/motherhood-is-not-competition.html' title='Motherhood is Not a Competition'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-8719882321075636324</id><published>2012-03-25T20:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-03-25T20:14:49.167-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>You Know You&#39;re a Parent When</title><content type='html'>I spend a lot of time thinking about all of the things I say and do now that I&#39;m a mom that never would have come out of my mouth or happened before parenthood. I&#39;ve decided to share these instances in small, quick &quot;You Know You&#39;re a Parent When&quot; posts, but here&#39;s a list of some of the things that have happened to me so far that make me giggle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;You Know You&#39;re a Parent When...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. You can brush your teeth, change your contacts, make an entire meal, brew a pot of coffee, put on your makeup, and get completely dressed...with one hand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. You are walking out the door, baby in tow, and you realize there is poop on your shirt. Instead of rushing inside to change your shirt, you shrug and hope the Tide Pen will do the trick when you reach your destination.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. You find yourself singing to &quot;Yo Gabba Gabba&quot; at the top of your lungs in the car, when you realize the kid&#39;s been asleep for 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. You tell your husband you have to go potty.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. You take a bite of your dinner and exclaim &quot;Yum yum!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
6. You don&#39;t even know the real words to LMAFO&#39;s &quot;Sexy and I Know It&quot; but you sure can belt out the Elmo version.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
7. You sway. Even when you&#39;re not holding a baby. Like at work when you&#39;re talking to co-workers, and they wonder why they feel sea-sick when they talk to you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
8. You have a song for every routine thing you do. Like the tubby song. Or the socks and shoes song. Or the wash your hands song. And you find yourself singing them out loud in public, even when your kiddo isn&#39;t with you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
9. You wear a baby monitor on your hip. Because, really, what&#39;s sexier?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
10. You get slapped in the face, bit on the arm, headbutted, and pinched, but you still can&#39;t resist smooching that perfect little face when they look at you and say &quot;Sowwy Mumma.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This gig makes me laugh. Every single day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What are some of your &quot;Wow, I&#39;m a parent&quot; moments?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/8719882321075636324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/03/you-know-youre-parent-when.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/8719882321075636324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/8719882321075636324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/03/you-know-youre-parent-when.html' title='You Know You&#39;re a Parent When'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-2888932283136907421</id><published>2012-03-12T18:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-03-12T18:58:37.714-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom Tips"/><title type='text'>Toddlers and Television</title><content type='html'>When you have children, there&#39;s a long list of things you &quot;shouldn&#39;t&quot; do. Don&#39;t give them a pacifier in the first week. Don&#39;t react every time they cry. Don&#39;t put them in their crib when they&#39;re newborns. Don&#39;t give them a bath every night. Don&#39;t let them watch TV.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Guess what? I&#39;ve done every single one of them. And you know what? My kid isn&#39;t damaged in the least. In fact, I have to say, she&#39;s pretty damn smart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The point of today&#39;s post isn&#39;t to demean or put down any other person&#39;s parenting style. In fact it&#39;s quite the opposite. As I talk about how we use television in our house, I encourage parents who struggle with the &quot;do&#39;s&quot; and &quot;do not&#39;s&quot; of parenting to do what works for them, in their house, with their individual children.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I&#39;m warning you, this will be a brutally honest post, so if you are squeamish towards moms and dads that do things in their own way, I urge you to stop reading here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My child watches television. She watches it almost every day. While we try to limit it to 30 minutes, max, occasionally she&#39;ll watch up to an hour of tv. Recently a report came out that said that children under two should not get any screen time at all. Of course this created an internet flurry of worried parents wondering how in this day in age they could re-arrange their lives so that their kids avoid the screen completely. While&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not trying to de-bunk the research done by any organization regarding children and television, I am advocating for parents to know their children and know if television is right for them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Warning - this is about to get a tad braggy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Molly is 17.5 months old. Her vocabulary is above average for her age. She is incredibly social. She understands and follows directions regularly. As parents, we do not feel that a little television is going to hinder her development.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are the four ways we use TV in our house:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;1. As an Educational Tool&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
One of my favorite things to do is watch TV with Molly on my lap. We sing, we clap, we dance - television gets her EXCITED! There is a segment on &lt;a href=&quot;http://yogabbagabba.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Yo Gabba Gabba&lt;/a&gt; (her favorite show) called the &quot;Dancy Dance.&quot; Famous people, like Tony Hawk, Elija Wood, and the band Sugarland join the characters and come up with their own simple dance moves which they teach the characters and all do together. My jaw dropped to the floor a few months ago when Molly began to correctly do the &quot;Chippy Chippy Chomp&quot; along with her tv friends. Over the past few weeks she&#39;s began playing along with DJ Lance as he jumps, claps, &quot;raises the roof&quot; and spins around. She points to doggies, kitties, and babies, and she sings along to the Elmo theme song. She&#39;s learning to be a mover and incorporate dance and music into her life. Are there other ways to have this happen? Sure - we sing and dance without the tv all the time, but this is another means that truly speaks to her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b&gt;As a Babysitter&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gasp!! I said it! Any parent who allows their child to watch tv and swears up and down that it has never ever been used as a babysitter, even for a few minutes, is lying to your face. Sometimes it just makes life easier. Our mornings are very hectic (as they are for most families). One of us showers while the other has breakfast with Molly. Then we switch, and the non-showering parent gets her dressed. Then she grabs her blanket, her doggie, her milk, and her rocking chair, and settles in for an episode of Yo Gabba Gabba while we run around pulling together lunches, walking the dog, getting ourselves dressed, pounding a cup of coffee, and eventually sprinting out the door. For us, it&#39;s necessary, and for her, it literally is the highlight of her morning. (Really - you should hear her squeal as her Gabba friends come on the screen!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. As Quiet Time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you ever just wanted to crawl under a blanket, lay on the couch, and watch TV? Well, so does my kid. Kids are BUSY. They&#39;re loud, they run around, their brains are working overtime trying to just take in every little thing in this new world around them. And sometimes that makes them tired or cranky - just like you, and just like me. When Molly needs quiet time, she reads books, or she watches TV. It helps her to re-charge, and it makes her a happier person.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;4. As Bonding Time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
How many times have you taken your kids to their favorite playground, or made them their favorite meal? As parents, the greatest feeling we have is doing something we know our kids love. I absolutely love sitting down for a segment of Elmo&#39;s World with Molly, and on my sleep-in mornings, she and Daddy hang out in the basement in front of the big screen and watch Gabba or Fraggle Rock. All we need is that one look or big hug that says &quot;Wow Mom, wow Dad, thanks for doing this with me.&quot; We snuggle and sing, and sometimes, that 30 minutes in front of the tv together is really, really special.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I said before, you need to do what works for you and your family. &amp;nbsp;This works for us, and tv time can be a really beneficial and special time in our house, along with story time, meal time, and play time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How do you use television with your kids? Share your ideas. It&#39;s a judgement free space.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/2888932283136907421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/03/toddlers-and-television.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/2888932283136907421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/2888932283136907421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/03/toddlers-and-television.html' title='Toddlers and Television'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-8454660428085769979</id><published>2012-01-31T08:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T08:00:17.573-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom Tips"/><title type='text'>Our Dinner Scare</title><content type='html'>Last night I had quite a scare at home. Jim was at class, so it was just me and Molly hanging out together for dinner. We had pulled chicken and cucumbers, both of which Molly has eaten before without any problem.&lt;br /&gt;
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At one point, late in the meal, she put a whole cucumber slice in her mouth. She&#39;s a good eater, and chews well, so I told her to be careful and watched her closely. Because I watched her closely I noticed her eyes get large, her mouth open up, no sound come from her throat, and her skin start to turn purple. Because I let her have an entire cucumber slice, my baby was choking.&lt;br /&gt;
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I panicked hard. I remember screaming &quot;No, no, no Molly, NO, NO, NO&quot; and I swiped my finger down the back of her throat. The piece was down there quite a ways, and was most definitely blocking her airway. Luckily it was easily removed, and I crumbled in a heap on the floor crying and rocking my baby girl. I have never in my life been so terrified, and even as I write this hours later, I&#39;m tearing up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m not writing this to be scolded for giving my child a piece of food that was obviously too large for her. I&#39;m writing it because I think that as our kids get older, we start to get more comfortable, and begin to forget some of those safety measures we were so anal about in the first year or two of their lives. Once they get the hang of it, things like eating, or climbing, or running become such a normal part of our days, and we forget that our kids are still little, and not fully capable of taking care of themselves. And while cuts and bruises are bound to happen, it doesn&#39;t take much for something routine to become quite serious quite quickly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My husband associated it with riding a motorcycle. He says the motorcycle becomes deadly when you stop riding it like a motorcycle, when you take it for granted and forget the dangers that come with riding.&amp;nbsp;Don&#39;t take your kiddos independence for granted, and don&#39;t forget they are still kiddos. I&#39;ll be watching with a much closer eye after last night.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/8454660428085769979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/01/our-dinner-scare.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/8454660428085769979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/8454660428085769979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/01/our-dinner-scare.html' title='Our Dinner Scare'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-5680166098597222789</id><published>2012-01-30T20:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T20:14:19.901-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Recipes"/><title type='text'>What&#39;s for Dinner? Tortellini Bake in Creamy Lemon Sauce</title><content type='html'>If you&#39;ve never heard of &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.pinterest.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Pinterest&lt;/a&gt;, you are either living under a rock, or in your third year of law school (that was for you V). If you&#39;re not on there, find your closest friend, (who most likely is not living under said rock) and offer to trade just about anything you have for an invitation (husbands included, kiddos excluded). Within the site you&#39;ll find everything from gorgeous home decorations, photo ideas, wedding details, funny quotes, and recipes. And I&#39;m not just talking &quot;how to make a taco salad&quot; recipes, I&#39;m talking &quot;how to make a taco salad that you&#39;ll be eating and talking about for the next week&quot; recipes. Deeeeeelish.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNWvCSV7sZcXjjds9y_l-7ZrEYs7x0OE4lfVnmZWVW8znogMPcKcjMonM0lz76skVfAlZJbKUa5IZXxG2jv0CwfIcW-PEXsvfGSrdcSRxL6_Hrrn7wd41GwrelGQejKOSfEP7wZBbOp9s/s1600/Tortellini+Bake.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNWvCSV7sZcXjjds9y_l-7ZrEYs7x0OE4lfVnmZWVW8znogMPcKcjMonM0lz76skVfAlZJbKUa5IZXxG2jv0CwfIcW-PEXsvfGSrdcSRxL6_Hrrn7wd41GwrelGQejKOSfEP7wZBbOp9s/s320/Tortellini+Bake.jpg&quot; width=&quot;228&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Photo Credit - &lt;a href=&quot;http://ourbestbites.com/&quot;&gt;OurBestBites.com&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;(Because&lt;br /&gt;
mine didn&#39;t look like this, and let&#39;s be honest,&lt;br /&gt;
yours won&#39;t either). But it still tastes&lt;br /&gt;
damn&amp;nbsp;good!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Last night I tried out a new Pinterecipe (I made that up, like it?). My husband took one bite and said &quot;Yup, this is what eat from now on.&quot; Sadly, if that were the case, we&#39;d weigh in at a million pounds a piece, but for every now and again, this dish rules.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I made just a few teeny tiny changes to the original recipe. Here&#39;s my version, and the original is linked below. I highly recommend prepping the ingredients before you begin to cook unless you are some sort of crazy kitchen cooking wizard.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: -webkit-auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tortellini Bake in Creamy Lemon Sauce&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;u&gt;Ingredients&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;20 oz cheese tortellini (I used garlic and herb)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;4 oz bacon (about 5 strips), crumbled and divided&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;3 cloves garlic, finely minced&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;2 tbs flour&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;2 c milk&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;3/4 tsp kosher salt&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;1 1/2 tsp dry basil&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;1/4 tsp red pepper flakes&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;1 medium lemon - zested (2 tsp) and juiced (1 tbsp)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;2 cups loosely packed fresh spinach, roughly chopped&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;3/4 cup grated mozzarella cheese, divided&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;3/4 cup grated parmesan cheese, divided&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;Directions&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Preheat oven to 350 degrees&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Fill a large stockpot with water and bring to a boil. Add tortellini and cook according to package instructions (NOTE: Do not overcook - tortellini only takes 3-5 minutes to cook). Drain and return to stockpot.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;While tortellini cooks - in a medium-sized skillet, cook the bacon over medium heat. Cook until crisp. Remove and place on paper towels to drain and cool.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Reserve two tablespoons of bacon drippings in the pan, and discard the rest.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Add garlic and cook until fragrant and tender, about 1 minute.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Add flour to pan, and whisk for 1 minute.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Slowly add milk and continue to stir with a whisk until smooth.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Add salt, pepper, basil, and red pepper flakes, and bring sauce to a simmer.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Add lemon zest and juice. Continue to whisk until thickened, about 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Crumble bacon. Reserve one tablespoon, and add the rest to the pasta mixture.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Add spinach, 1/2 cup mozzarella and 1/2 cup of parmesan cheese. Add sauce and stir gently to combine.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Place mixture in a casserole or baking dish and top with remaining mozzarella cheese, parmesan cheese, and bacon.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Cover with foil or baking dish lid, and bake for 20 minutes. Remove foil or lid and bake for an additional 5-10 minutes until cheese on top is melted, and dish is bubbly.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope you like it. It&#39;s a bit of work, but so very worth it! Yum yum!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Source: &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.ourbestbites.com/2011/04/tortellini-spinach-bake-in-creamy-lemon/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;OurBestBites.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZBMbpqipdYyZW0J8DRc05R08obFZjhdnCkt2HQlXCYjTmeWSA4snmpm6lwsj67Kq-HPZ2Nt4ct1dL5Eyn4HenY2Vebpvi86ExRD-5M9iLBi-EaJpKoWTQ6bSUSeZ3U20GFj1BqkarFI/s1600/Tortellini+Bake.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/5680166098597222789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/01/whats-for-dinner-tortellini-bake-in.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/5680166098597222789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/5680166098597222789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2012/01/whats-for-dinner-tortellini-bake-in.html' title='What&#39;s for Dinner? Tortellini Bake in Creamy Lemon Sauce'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNWvCSV7sZcXjjds9y_l-7ZrEYs7x0OE4lfVnmZWVW8znogMPcKcjMonM0lz76skVfAlZJbKUa5IZXxG2jv0CwfIcW-PEXsvfGSrdcSRxL6_Hrrn7wd41GwrelGQejKOSfEP7wZBbOp9s/s72-c/Tortellini+Bake.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-5791781699554897089</id><published>2011-12-22T07:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T21:33:59.645-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My No Texting and Driving Experiment</title><content type='html'>We&#39;ve all done it. You&#39;re in your car, your phone makes a beep, or a ring, or a buzz. You pick it up.You may look at it for a second, just to know what caused the noise, or you may sit and read an entire email. If you&#39;ve never done this, you either 1. probably don&#39;t have a smartphone, 2. are in the minority, or 3. are lying to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The stories, pictures, and videos of accidents caused by &quot;texting&quot; and driving are horrendous. I place texting in quotations because it&#39;s not just the action of sending a text message to a friend. People drive and watch YouTube, catch up on Facebook, read and write emails, or even play games.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am the first to admit, that I have &quot;texted&quot; and drove. And I have done it a lot. Since Molly arrived, I have tried very hard to ignore the phone while she is in the car, as if only doing it when it&#39;s just me in the vehicle makes it ok. As if Molly losing her mom in an accident due to my stupidity and selfishness is ok. As if losing the life of a child, or someone else&#39;s mom, dad, grandparent, aunt or uncle is ok because I chose to read an email while behind the wheel.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Judge me all you want, but think, REALLY think about how many times you&#39;ve even just taken a peek at your phone while behind the wheel in the past month. If you can say zero, you&#39;re pretty impressive, but I bet most of you cannot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last week I decided to put an end to it. I gave myself a challenge. I needed to go one full week without using my phone in the car. I did allow myself to answer phone calls, (yes, I know there is danger in talking and driving as well), but I was not allowed to check email, voicemail, Facebook, texts, etc.. I purposely left the volume on, as I needed to truly learn how to ignore this thing that consumes my life in so many ways.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The first day was the hardest. Immediately after pulling out of the parking lot at work, I received a text message. I reminded myself that I couldn&#39;t look at it. My mind started racing. What could it be? Who was it from? The curiosity was killing me. I actually contemplated pulling into a parking lot just to check, or breaking the rules &lt;i&gt;just this once&lt;/i&gt; at the next stoplight to see who could need me. And that&#39;s when I realized something scary. These phones..they are an addiction. They are life-consuming. It&#39;s like being an alcoholic. You do everything you can to justify that one drink..that one text message. It&#39;s pathetic. It&#39;s dangerous. It&#39;s wrong.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wanna know what happened over the past week while I ignored my phone in the car? NOTHING. Absolutely nothing. Nobody died. Nobody reamed me out for not responding to their message immediately. Nobody asked if I had dropped my phone in the river. &lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Nobody cared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By the end of the week, I still twitched ever so slightly when the phone buzzed and I still had to remind myself that I couldn&#39;t pick it up just to check and see who got in touch with me. But my eyes stayed on the road, and &amp;nbsp;I got home knowing it wasn&#39;t just sheer luck that caused me to arrive in my driveway without harm to myself, my family, or someone else. Even while at home, I noticed a difference.&amp;nbsp;By the end of the week, I was no longer jumping up out of a play session with my daughter to check my email or respond to a text. My phone spent more time on the counter than it ever has.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Put your phone down. Tune back into your life. Keep your eyes on the road. What would you do, what would you think if someone crashed into you, hurt you, or hurt your family, just because they needed to respond with a smiley face to text message, or couldn&#39;t go two more seconds without knowing that some guy they haven&#39;t seen in 15 years just watched his kid use the potty for the first time. It&#39;s not worth it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Put your phone down. Put your phone down. Put your phone down. It&#39;s really just that simple.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have a safe and happy holiday weekend.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/5791781699554897089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-no-texting-and-driving-experiment.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/5791781699554897089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/5791781699554897089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-no-texting-and-driving-experiment.html' title='My No Texting and Driving Experiment'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-7735690734584012757</id><published>2011-12-03T14:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T14:20:31.148-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom Tips"/><title type='text'>Learning to Discipline</title><content type='html'>I remember when Molly was a newborn. People would always tell me &quot;don&#39;t worry, it&#39;ll get easier.&quot; Today I&#39;m looking at those people like they are freaking crazy. Sorry new moms, I hate to break it to you, but it does NOT get easier. Does it get more fun? YES! But easier? No way. Yes, you have a lot of sleepless nights with newborns, and the dreaded &quot;witching hour&quot; every evening. But then they become mobile. At first it&#39;s just a roll-over and you need to make sure they aren&#39;t on anything high or near something dangerous. Then it&#39;s the crawl, and you need to keep your not-so-babyproofed-because-this-snuck-up-on-us house in order and your eyes on them all the time. Then the walking starts and they no longer want to sit or be held in public because, hey mom! I can walk! When they are newborns, man it is EASY. I watched more Grey&#39;s Anatomy than I care to admit. Now I&#39;ve lost 20lbs, run around all day, and hope my kid doesn&#39;t stick her finger in a light socket, because I&#39;m sure that like, next week, she&#39;ll be tall enough to do it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My battle right now is with discipline. From day one, I have been very blessed to have a happy child, and she still is one. But she&#39;s starting to push it. With her grandparents and at school, she&#39;s an angel. Dad gets a bit of attitude, but mom, mom&#39;s the clear winner. I get hit. I get my hair pulled. I get my sweet lovable laughing child turned she-devil as she thrashes in my arms and her high chair. Where, I ask you, WHERE did this child come from?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s not all the time, but often enough that I&#39;m starting to realize a hard, cold fact - my kid is becoming a bit spoiled. Whine a little - do you want a snack? Cry really hard - oh I&#39;ll hold you and we&#39;ll sing. She&#39;s on to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fundamentally, I get discipline. I was a high school teacher and you can&#39;t be a high school teacher without understanding the very fine balance between friendship and authoritarianism. I know when it is obvious she&#39;s just wailing for attention that I need to ignore her and she will stop. But it is HARD. Today, while she played me a fool while laying her head on my shoulder and patting my back just so I wouldn&#39;t put her in the exersaucer, I stood there bawling my eyes out because I am so scared of disappointing her or making her hate me. And yes, I know, this is how kids become spoiled and parents become walked on like a New York City sidewalk.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I try to remind myself that it actually is a good thing when she acts out. She has feelings. She has emotions. She&#39;s smart enough to know what&#39;s going to force a response for me. She&#39;s developing which is exactly what we want her to do. But doing what I need to do is so very hard for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, fellow moms, what tips do you have? Not tips on how to handle the discipline with your child, but how to handle YOURSElF when disciplining. Do you walk into the other room and cry like I do? Do you stare into their eyes as they look at you with hatred and sing your favorite song about the Caribbean and think of margaritas? How do you handle yourself when you know you have to do what&#39;s best for your child and hardest for you? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And please, don&#39;t tell me it&#39;ll get easier. :)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/7735690734584012757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/12/learning-to-discipline.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/7735690734584012757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/7735690734584012757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/12/learning-to-discipline.html' title='Learning to Discipline'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-6717278077702859578</id><published>2011-11-18T12:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T12:26:22.125-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Holidays"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Treasury"/><title type='text'>A LOVEly Christmas Treasury</title><content type='html'>A few months back I said I wanted to share my Etsy treasuries, because 1. I love them, and 2. they can have some really great gifts on them! I haven&#39;t had any that I am particularly excited about, but today I put together a Christmas one and it just has me in the holiday spirit already, so I thought I&#39;d share.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;script src=&quot;http://www.craftcult.com/js/trwi.js?s=1&amp;amp;l=NzkzOTMyMXwxMTQ5Mzc2NTU4&amp;amp;r=38132&amp;amp;t=s&amp;amp;m=0&amp;amp;u=7939321&amp;amp;&quot;&gt;
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I don&#39;t care if it&#39;s not quite Thanksgiving yet..I&#39;m in the Christmas spirit..are you?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/6717278077702859578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/11/lovely-christmas-treasury.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/6717278077702859578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/6717278077702859578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/11/lovely-christmas-treasury.html' title='A LOVEly Christmas Treasury'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-8089982594062664270</id><published>2011-11-14T21:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T21:11:29.277-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography"/><title type='text'>Being Molly&#39;s Mom - Her Fall Photoshoot!</title><content type='html'>They say that when you become a parent, time suddenly moves at warp speed. I&#39;m starting to understand the truth behind this statement. It feels like yesterday when we were at the hospital holding our brand new baby girl. She was so tiny, and perfect, and I will never, ever forget the feeling of having her sleep on my chest those first few nights, or watching my husband be so very comfortable having her in his arms.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIvet2SqzgxGAjYn8qDueWpmeUoJvn3PSYTrllpuu7OuB7rLGZ18oj_EGeBMbmrnjp0e49-swo9xEJRm65baDgi0q456LpMzQ0slapaghOeeitFF29_KJMzEwtXd_1VIw74gAiTUtfnoY/s1600/Molly+1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;424&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIvet2SqzgxGAjYn8qDueWpmeUoJvn3PSYTrllpuu7OuB7rLGZ18oj_EGeBMbmrnjp0e49-swo9xEJRm65baDgi0q456LpMzQ0slapaghOeeitFF29_KJMzEwtXd_1VIw74gAiTUtfnoY/s640/Molly+1.jpg&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A few weeks ago I decided to take Molly out for a little photo shoot..just she and I. I knew it would be my last chance before the snow hit to get her in her adorable fall outfits, so we headed up to the park one chilly afternoon. She was a bit on the serious side, but I was thrilled at how well she did without anyone there to help me rein her in, and it also hit me how quickly the time has flown. My brand new baby girl now walks, talks, plays, laughs, and gives loves. Just when you think your heart can&#39;t get any more full, you have a child, and you watch your child grow, and your heart just grows and grows with it. There is nothing in the world like parenthood.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here&#39;s my Molly last fall, on the same weekend, in her monkey Halloween costume:&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUoOM0KYFHIzaAgTXBMq52bW0uaOQH0EVpKmwy4LcMHNrFRZQeIZz7xq_fZ554_3_RgpX5jPMXzLy_2zyEl4WsT1s1Mb9V5Gww5ohN9DleU9zT4j_TG5cbrmRlfLIkiF7IwnhhoYGsNuM/s1600/Molly+2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;640&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUoOM0KYFHIzaAgTXBMq52bW0uaOQH0EVpKmwy4LcMHNrFRZQeIZz7xq_fZ554_3_RgpX5jPMXzLy_2zyEl4WsT1s1Mb9V5Gww5ohN9DleU9zT4j_TG5cbrmRlfLIkiF7IwnhhoYGsNuM/s640/Molly+2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;424&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
And here she is, one year later...dare I say, all grown up and ready to conquer the world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhgBk8olJL5fNDZeBnj43T6I_ZdkWX0M7gtnWtjXqXR2ylP0rkXcbEpK_Q4MfBLZIuc84xS8FD_j-7J9qgPlFPmj3ZAmd51sfb5duefD-EDCaa_cxCx-d-G1Viq9qTcoSr0LRXduGSSq8/s1600/Molly+13+months-11-1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;424&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhgBk8olJL5fNDZeBnj43T6I_ZdkWX0M7gtnWtjXqXR2ylP0rkXcbEpK_Q4MfBLZIuc84xS8FD_j-7J9qgPlFPmj3ZAmd51sfb5duefD-EDCaa_cxCx-d-G1Viq9qTcoSr0LRXduGSSq8/s640/Molly+13+months-11-1.jpg&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ3r_uwTzNZDCDR3Li4jrj-rJjAXCW0LaUyM1cszIQVlk1Vp0HU3SBndg9ex6sQRznqpWsJ1-lbiTYG7yGNtNmezgc9wRJzn_tpMVRPpJ8iZB8Zu_w0VdjJ71Dqs3R38-vHbSDLhp_XGU/s1600/Molly+13+months-20-1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;424&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ3r_uwTzNZDCDR3Li4jrj-rJjAXCW0LaUyM1cszIQVlk1Vp0HU3SBndg9ex6sQRznqpWsJ1-lbiTYG7yGNtNmezgc9wRJzn_tpMVRPpJ8iZB8Zu_w0VdjJ71Dqs3R38-vHbSDLhp_XGU/s640/Molly+13+months-20-1.jpg&quot; width=&quot;640&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRs0KBfoaPm8tD8JgfmLX6pJPNjbAez8lafiCbYawd0g2BjQRQVJ_Yb-XDU0Jnfaw9giv-QuQmtz4SuCZBfT4n5GykEzkXNeSHoFX3os_5UVB04dvZiiAbOY-e41-M6MBuNwPfJx2fds/s1600/Molly+13+months-33-1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRs0KBfoaPm8tD8JgfmLX6pJPNjbAez8lafiCbYawd0g2BjQRQVJ_Yb-XDU0Jnfaw9giv-QuQmtz4SuCZBfT4n5GykEzkXNeSHoFX3os_5UVB04dvZiiAbOY-e41-M6MBuNwPfJx2fds/s1600/Molly+13+months-33-1.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFJAmRgzoxkX2L4i9lGq8nZ7jHKXZy553GcUcKmgnLQd_YjijQxdWbKWVZOaeC9MgGYoxj7bL8nof_-ZRB1_yijCDZmt_5EODeb1pM6vfgdN7E78RWo7dnxcYLwOICcwQjBvXyqUbBn2Y/s1600/Molly+13+months-58-1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFJAmRgzoxkX2L4i9lGq8nZ7jHKXZy553GcUcKmgnLQd_YjijQxdWbKWVZOaeC9MgGYoxj7bL8nof_-ZRB1_yijCDZmt_5EODeb1pM6vfgdN7E78RWo7dnxcYLwOICcwQjBvXyqUbBn2Y/s1600/Molly+13+months-58-1.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There is nothing better in the world than being a mom.&lt;br /&gt;
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See more photos from our shoot on my photography &lt;a href=&quot;http://kristinaobrien.blogspot.com/2011/11/molly-13-months.html&quot;&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/8089982594062664270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/11/they-say-that-when-you-become-parent.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/8089982594062664270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/8089982594062664270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/11/they-say-that-when-you-become-parent.html' title='Being Molly&#39;s Mom - Her Fall Photoshoot!'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIvet2SqzgxGAjYn8qDueWpmeUoJvn3PSYTrllpuu7OuB7rLGZ18oj_EGeBMbmrnjp0e49-swo9xEJRm65baDgi0q456LpMzQ0slapaghOeeitFF29_KJMzEwtXd_1VIw74gAiTUtfnoY/s72-c/Molly+1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-7678135695103776585</id><published>2011-11-06T15:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-06T15:05:30.122-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful November</title><content type='html'>If you spend any time on Facebook at all, you&#39;ll see the daily posts this month from your friends, telling you what they are thankful for this November as we approach the Thanksgiving holiday. While I would love to participate in this daily reminder of everything I love, let&#39;s be honest, I can barely remember to wear my shoes out of the house instead of my slippers. Life is a bit nuts. So, I&#39;m going to devote one single post to my 30 things that I am giving thanks for this year. If you really feel this should be done on a daily basis, feel free to come back every day and read this post. Otherwise, read it once, smile and laugh, and take a second to think about all you have to be thankful for this year.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;This year I give thanks for, in no particular order&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;(aside from 1 and 2 which really are a tie):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
1. My smart, beautiful, and awe-inspiring daughter, Molly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. My incredible and handsome husband, James.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. My house, which is small and messy, but is home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. My photography business. The fact that it exists blows my mind every.single.day.&lt;br /&gt;
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5. My amazing clients and fans of my &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.kristinaobrien.com/&quot;&gt;photography&lt;/a&gt;. I could go on and on and on about all the reasons they are amazing. But, simply put, my business would not exist without them.&lt;br /&gt;
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6. My blog readers (that&#39;s YOU!). Because you let me spout off, you don&#39;t give me crap for only posting once and awhile, and I really think you get me. And that&#39;s tough to do.&lt;br /&gt;
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7. My family, extended family, and friends. There are so many new babies, and new adventures going on. I love hearing about everyone&#39;s lives and seeing their pictures.&lt;br /&gt;
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8. My parents and my in-laws, who have saved our butts on numerous occasions over the past year as we dealt with travel, sickness, class, weddings, and life. We both would have been fired by now if it weren&#39;t for them!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
9. Wine. But I think you knew that was coming.&lt;br /&gt;
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10. My co-workers in the Admission office. Every day, literally every day, I remember how lucky I am to work with such an amazing group of people. We have our challenges but we are one hell of a team.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
11. Coupons. Because I&#39;m cheap, and they make me less poor.&lt;br /&gt;
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12. My Massholes. You know who you are. You guys make me sane most days.&lt;br /&gt;
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13. Facebook. I know that&#39;s weird. But I think we take for granted what Facebook gives to us...the ability to connect and re-connect with so many people. Plus it makes us feel ridiculously loved on our birthdays or when we have babies.&lt;br /&gt;
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14. The fact that Molly sleeps through the night. And pretty much everything else that she does. But the sleeping is really freaking high on the list.&lt;br /&gt;
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15. &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.wpor.com/&quot;&gt;WPOR 101.9&lt;/a&gt; Because they gave me Kenny Chesney tickets. And because, even though I couldn&#39;t go, the look on my husband&#39;s face when I told him the reason I was screaming like a 13 year old girl at a Justin Bieber concert was because I won Kenny tickets was seriously priceless.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
16. &amp;nbsp;Our daycare. Sending Molly to daycare was hands down the hardest thing I&#39;ve ever done in my life. But they are incredible and loving, and she loves the crap out of them. We are so, so lucky to have found them. Now if we could only convince them to keep her after age 2...&lt;br /&gt;
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17. Flannel sheets. Is there really anything better than the first night you have flannels on your bed each fall?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
18. Hampton Inns. The beds, the coffee, the breakfast. If I have to be away from home, I love being at a Hampton!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
19. Maine. Yes, Maine. If there is one thing I&#39;ve learned while being a wedding photographer, it&#39;s that we live in one gorgeous state. The ocean, the lakes, the trees, the ponds, the mountains. Man, I&#39;m lucky to live here.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
20. &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.ladyantebellum.com/&quot;&gt;Lady Antebellum&lt;/a&gt;. I know I talk about them a lot lately. But over this past year, their music has really struck a chord with me (get it? Hahaha). Seriously. Their lyrics about parenthood, marriage, growing up, and life in general just fit my life right now, and when I&#39;m stressed or upset, listening to them gives me hope and makes me smile.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
21. &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.realmaineweddings.com/&quot;&gt;Real Maine Weddings&lt;/a&gt;. Because they were the first in the wedding business to in some way, publicly recognize me as a wedding professional. The first time I saw one of my pictures on their website I literally cried, and I feel so lucky to have been featured with them a few more times since. They gave me a lot of confidence to keep going and they don&#39;t even know it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
22. Amazon. Actually, Amazon Prime. Free two day shipping is awesome. Especially when it&#39;s two days before a wedding or bridal shower and you haven&#39;t made it to the store and have absolutely no time to do so. Live savers.&lt;br /&gt;
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23. Green Mountain Blueberry Coffee. Game changer. Add french vanilla creamer and you are floating on air.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
24. Grey&#39;s Anatomy. How did it seriously take me 7 years to find this show??!! LOVE it!&lt;br /&gt;
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25. (Man, this is getting hard....) &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/&quot;&gt;Pioneer Woman&lt;/a&gt;. Her posts make me laugh, and her contests make me feisty. One day I will win, really, every one of her 456,000 entries has a chance!&lt;br /&gt;
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26. My red peacoat. Laugh if you will, but after years of wanting one, I finally treated myself last winter and I&#39;m dying to put it on this year!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
27. Pre-pregnancy jeans. Oh what a feeling...&lt;br /&gt;
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28. Yo Gabba Gabba. Because it saves my sanity several times a week.&lt;br /&gt;
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29. Banana Republic sales which have kindly re-stocked my post-baby wardrobe.&lt;br /&gt;
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30. Anything else I may have missed! This is not a cop-out. As a businesswoman I feel that I need to cover all my bases. So if I missed you...consider yourself thanked. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/7678135695103776585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/11/thankful-november.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/7678135695103776585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/7678135695103776585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/11/thankful-november.html' title='Thankful November'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-2489520731221517275</id><published>2011-10-08T12:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-08T12:19:36.631-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom Tips"/><title type='text'>But I Don&#39;t Wanna Be a Frump!</title><content type='html'>We&#39;ve all seen them. Those generic Facebook posts that are constantly circling around. &quot;Post this for 10 minutes if you think there should be a cure for cancer.&quot; &quot;Re-post if you love your husband.&quot; Man, don&#39;t I feel like a jerk when I ignore them. For the record, I DO think there should be a cure for cancer, and I really DO love my husband. I don&#39;t think a Facebook status update is required for this to be known.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few times, I&#39;ve seen one circling around for moms. It goes something like &quot;if you&#39;ve traded your mascara in for burp cloths, and your heels for pacifier clips..you are a real mom.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Um, what?! That&#39;s crap. You might as well say to a pregnant lady, &quot;Congratulations! You are about to enter a phase of your life where you will enjoy bedhead and frump every day for the next 18 years.&quot; &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t think so. So, I came up with my own status update.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You can be an awesome and real mom when you:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have girls nights. Because you really appreciate them.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Wear heels to the grocery store. Because they make you feel pretty.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Put mascara on every day. Because you know that the 30 seconds it takes to put it on does not impact you child&#39;s ability to read or become the President.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Watch television. And by television I mean shows like Grey&#39;s Anataomy, House, Law and Order, and Glee. Not just Sesame Street, Yo Gabba Gabba, and Dora the Explorer.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Go on dates with your significant other. &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Drink wine. Because if moms had to give up wine we&#39;d never make it.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Carry a designer handbag.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Get manicures and pedicures.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Have a career.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Study, craft, play music, create, or do whatever it is that you did before you had kids that made you who you are.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;Frump is so out, moms. Show your kids it&#39;s ok to be who you are and who you want to be in any phase of your life.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/2489520731221517275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/10/but-i-dont-wanna-be-frump.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/2489520731221517275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/2489520731221517275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/10/but-i-dont-wanna-be-frump.html' title='But I Don&#39;t Wanna Be a Frump!'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-762905244440601576</id><published>2011-09-27T09:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T09:52:43.784-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Things Husbands (Don&#39;t) Do</title><content type='html'>My little munchkin is home sick this week. She has her second round of Hand, Foot, and Mouth (evidently this is something that is quite common among kids these days), and can&#39;t go to school all week. So I spent yesterday at home with her, and will again today, with grandparents coming to assist the rest of the week.&lt;br /&gt;
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Last night, as we were getting ready for dinner, my husband picked some old food out of her high chair. I apologized for not getting it earlier, and he said &quot;don&#39;t apologize, I totally get it, I&#39;ve been home alone with her before too and I know what it&#39;s like.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Following this comment, I looked around. The house was (almost) spotless. Dinner was made. The baby was cheerful. The dog was passed out. Let&#39;s just say, this is vastly different from what I come home to when Dad has been home alone with Molly all day.&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m not writing this post to complain about my husband. He&#39;s a fantastic dad. He helps out as much as he can, and as much as he knows how to. But I often have to remind myself that his brain does not work the same way that mine does. I can simultaneously be feeding the baby, cleaning the kitchen, making dinner, and feeding the dog. My husband can focus on one of those things at a time. It does not make him a bad husband, dad, or housekeeper, it just makes him different.&lt;br /&gt;
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I know all of my mom readers have gone through this. How many times have you said &quot;Why can&#39;t he just help out?&quot; &quot;How does he not SEE the pile of toys in the middle of the floor that he just walked over?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Give your husband a break. I guarantee he is not out to screw you over, make your life more difficult, or be a lazy bum. I have to remind myself of this a lot. Instead, when I come home to a crazy house when Dad&#39;s been home all day, I look at my daughter who spent hours playing with Dad, and sometimes, I actually get a little jealous. Can you imagine being able to just focus on ONE thing? Can you imagine not seeing the dishes, or the dirty windows, or hearing the washing machine beep?&amp;nbsp;I think Dads actually have it pretty great.&lt;br /&gt;
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Today, try to ignore everything else. Focus on your kid. Forget the dishes. Forget the laundry. Just have some fun. Be Dad for a day..I think you&#39;ll like it.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/762905244440601576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/09/things-husbands-dont-do.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/762905244440601576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/762905244440601576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/09/things-husbands-dont-do.html' title='The Things Husbands (Don&#39;t) Do'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-710406266459142753</id><published>2011-09-09T23:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T23:12:13.253-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Love Concerts - {Lady Antebellum}</title><content type='html'>Last year, my brother Robbie and his friend Alex decided to start a company. They had both been involved in the club scene in Orono, Maine and when they moved on, they put their heads together, and came up with &lt;a href=&quot;http://waterfrontconcerts.com/&quot;&gt;Waterfront Concerts&lt;/a&gt; in Bangor. Since last summer they have brought huge acts to the city including BB King, Lynryd Skynyrd, Tim McGraw, and this past weekend, Lady Antebellum. Being the very fortunate sister of one of the owners of the company, I got the hook up as my Christmas present and found myself and Jim in the very front row for one of my very favorite bands.&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m a weird person when it comes to concerts. Most people go, oogle the famous people on stage, sing along, have a good time, and move on. While I do all of that, I always find myself thinking a lot about the true person behind the personality on stage. I think it was watching the movie &quot;Selena&quot; when I was a teacher that did this to me, and then shows like American Idol, which show every day normal people who are burst into super-stardom. It boggles my mind that the person on stage was at one point, just as normal as you and me.&lt;br /&gt;
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So, maybe this is why, almost a full week after the show, I still think about it. I wonder what the people who were literally three feet away from me that night are doing right now - are they just sitting around shooting the shit? Is Hillary Scott just hanging out in her sweats watching Grey&#39;s and hoping that someday she&#39;ll meet McDreamy? It&#39;s crazy to me that their &quot;normal&quot; could very well be just like my normal. Tomorrow they&#39;ll wake up and get ready to work, only they&#39;ll face thousands of people in their workday whereas I may just see two or three.&lt;br /&gt;
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Next time you go to a show, take a second, and think about who really is up there. When they belt out a long note, raise their arms, and then take an extra long look at what is in front of them, imagine being in their shoes. I bet that no matter how long they&#39;ve been doing this, it still blows their mind that they&#39;ve made it there every time they are on the stage.&lt;br /&gt;
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I first fell in love with Lady Antebellum when I saw them open for Kenny Chesney two years ago at Mohegan Sun in Connecticut. I&#39;d heard of them before but they were so amazing live that they became a fast favorite after that show. &amp;nbsp;Their music speaks to me, and many of them even bring tears to my eyes. I was so excited when I heard they were coming to Bangor.&lt;br /&gt;
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Here are a few pictures and videos from the night (professional photographer disclaimer: this is with my point-and-shoot, not my nice camera). And yes, Charles Kelly is just as gorgeous as he looks on his album cover. And yes, he looked me in the eye. Twice. Really, I swear, I&#39;d remember :)&lt;br /&gt;
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I take no responsibility for my husband&#39;s hat. He came to a country concert with me, so he felt it only appropriate to buy a hat at a gas station beforehand.&lt;br /&gt;
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Here&#39;s Robbie, looking all busy and important. :) Thanks for the tickets bro!&lt;br /&gt;
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I hope they come back to Maine soon! Thanks for a great concert Lady A and Waterfront Concerts!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/710406266459142753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/09/why-i-love-concerts-lady-antebellum.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/710406266459142753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/710406266459142753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/09/why-i-love-concerts-lady-antebellum.html' title='Why I Love Concerts - {Lady Antebellum}'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI2liwzI1fRbwCMT06to-XoG649YIonOuAkKfrbGmmb56j2JJtN8NCBO8XQoIkDsc1nf1NDlgTN8gm4jPuxqq6RAuRaKTd2joTduCecHBfxW4u1Z-4amPjNSZbaxZtao82Tt6V2Ajql0g/s72-c/Lady+Antebellum-3.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-4404666143185303051</id><published>2011-09-07T20:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T20:12:46.123-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><title type='text'>Breaking the Rules - Survival Mode</title><content type='html'>Before you become a parent, you have a long list of things you&#39;ll never do to YOUR kid. You&#39;ll never pick them up just because they want you to, or let them watch tv, or give them something they want just because they are whining for it.&lt;br /&gt;
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Let me tell you, you&#39;re in for a wake up call.&lt;br /&gt;
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About three seconds into parenthood you realize you&#39;re a big sucker. Those big eyes, those little lips. You already know you&#39;ll do anything just to make them happy. But you tell yourself, you&#39;ll stick to your standards, because it&#39;s what&#39;s best for this little miracle in your arms.&lt;br /&gt;
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But the reality of parenthood sets in quickly and although it drove me bonkers to hear it when I was pregnant, there really was so much I didn&#39;t know until Molly was actually here. And while I still have standards, a parenting style, and parenting beliefs about what will be best for my daughter, I&#39;m learning that nothing is set in stone, and you are literally learning and changing your opinions every single step of the way.&lt;br /&gt;
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Before we had Molly, my husband and I adamently agreed: No baby in the bed. It would not happen. I&#39;d heard too many stories of couples who had grown apart because they had a kid in their bed many nights. At first we did well. Molly slept in her pack and play and eventually her crib. But then we hit the growth spurts, and we went into what I call &quot;survival mode.&quot; When your child has been up literally screaming her head off from 6pm the previous evening until 5:00 the next morning, and the only way she will calm down is when you lay her down between you and your husband in your bed, you do it. You do it because you love your child and don&#39;t want her to cry any more, but you also do it because you love your sanity. You&#39;re in survival mode.&lt;br /&gt;
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Sleeping in the bed isn&#39;t the only rule I&#39;ve broken in order to survive parenthood. I swore up and down I would never EVER place my child in front of the tv in order to get some things done. But one day, she was crying, ohhh was she crying, and my husband was running last minute errands, and I had to pack us all up to go away on a trip in just a few hours. So I bit my lip, felt guiltyguiltyguilty, and put Molly in her exersaucer with &quot;Yo Gabba Gabba&quot; on the television. She stopped crying. She started laughing. I packed up three people and a dog for a lengthy trip, and loaded the car in 25 minutes. Survival mode.&lt;br /&gt;
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Last week Molly discovered the art of a temper tantrum. It was cute at first. She&#39;d sit down, throw her arms and forward on the floor like a hopeless mess, and get over it in about 30 seconds. Tonight, she was in rare form. She needed to eat dinner, I needed to unload groceries, and her face was the color of the very ripe plum in our fridge. So I did what no well-respecting non-mom would do: I whipped out my phone, activated my YouTube app, turned on the beloved Yo Gabba Gabba, and watched my child stare at a screen while she silently ate her cucumbers and spaghetti and I put the groceries away, fed the dog, and made our dinner. It was indeed, survival mode.&lt;br /&gt;
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So the next time you are at the mall, and you see a mom cave in to her screaming toddler with a treat, or your co-worker or good friend tells you about how their little one watched &quot;Tangled&quot; twice in a row that afternoon, don&#39;t judge them. Give them a break. I guarantee they are great parents, who have just found themselves in a moment of truth and chose pick their battles just to survive.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/feeds/4404666143185303051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/09/breaking-rules-survival-mode.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/4404666143185303051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7975230002087881628/posts/default/4404666143185303051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://3-0something.blogspot.com/2011/09/breaking-rules-survival-mode.html' title='Breaking the Rules - Survival Mode'/><author><name>Kristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11394958673518984221</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ndG-GTdPKgGl-2SKcrTBexL5mH0Db8M8YV5LXTNM8cKudN0YKXNi_4xHB3YnEHHeBg3J4sSG26uxlL7O-pu8PImtTUv8TgvAcXiwlhL7YxQJ6y76xhVh2JUeE_15BGI/s220/KJ.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7975230002087881628.post-1802350246192496958</id><published>2011-08-22T17:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T17:11:28.103-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Travel"/><title type='text'>Katelyn&#39;s Bachelorette Weekend: Part I</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago I traveled to Geneva, New York for my good friend Katelyn&#39;s bachelorette party. I still have yet to go through the pictures I took of our 8-vineyard wine tour (yup, you read that correctly), but I did take a quick break from the wedding editing to go through some of the shots I took on our first night there.&lt;br /&gt;
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If you&#39;ve never been to the Finger Lakes region of New York, hop in your car, and make the drive. It was completely worth the 9 hour drive (yup, you read that correctly too), for both the scenery and the company.&lt;br /&gt;
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We spent the first night of the weekend at the Ramada in Geneva. I rode most of the way with my friend Kristen, and to be honest, we weren&#39;t expecting much from the Ramada (we both travel a lot for work and have developed a bit of a snotty side when it comes to hotel preference. Not that I need the Ritz, but I don&#39;t tend to slum it in my Hampton Inns either).&lt;br /&gt;
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When we pulled up to the hotel we were greeted with a huge building right on Seneca Lake. A tent was set up out back, probably from a wedding that had happened earlier in the day, live music was playing on the patio, and people were dancing, drinking, and having a blast.&lt;br /&gt;
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The true beauty of the evening though was the sunset. I don&#39;t know the last time I saw one so pretty. The sky reflecting off of the lake made for a gorgeous blue and purple tones in both the water and the sky. It was so hard to put my camera down at all while we walked the pathways behind the hotel. I only hoped I was able to capture the beauty of what was in front of us.&lt;br /&gt;
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I still have a long way to go when it comes to scenic photography. I&#39;m no Ansel Adams, but I love to take scenic shots. Having a photographer&#39;s eye is such a cool way to live..I really think I appreciate what I see around me so much more than I used to.&lt;br /&gt;
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Anyway, here are some of the photos I took that evening. I&#39;ll have many more to share when I can get another little break from the wedding photos to go through the rest. And as always, if you are interested in purchasing any of my photos you can email me directly at kristina@kristinaobrien.com.&lt;br /&gt;
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