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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QHQH49cCp7ImA9WxNbEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257</id><updated>2009-11-14T19:22:11.068-08:00</updated><title>Bloorb</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.bloorb.com/" /><link rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>437</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/bloorb/posts" type="application/atom+xml" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYDRHo6eyp7ImA9WxNbEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-8410971724586790115</id><published>2009-11-14T08:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T09:36:15.413-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-14T09:36:15.413-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="IVF" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>My Safe Place</title><summary type="html">If you haven't read this, you're missing out. Seriously missing out. Kim's always been a great writer, and I lurk often, but it's probably her best post EVER, and one of THE best posts [of anyone's] I've read in months, maybe years. Go. Go now. READ.Cuz the thing with that post, is it triggered in me a lot of how I feel about pregnancy AFTER infertility - a lot of what I knew I felt, but didn't &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/oeMaaMT0hMA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/8410971724586790115/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=8410971724586790115" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/8410971724586790115?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/8410971724586790115?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/oeMaaMT0hMA/my-safe-place.html" title="My Safe Place" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/11/my-safe-place.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MGRHczfip7ImA9WxNbEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-923358651057938596</id><published>2009-11-13T11:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T11:43:45.986-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-13T11:43:45.986-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>37-40 Weeks</title><summary type="html">While not much has changed since the 37 week mark was approaching, I feel a need on my due date (today) to do me up a final list of where I'm really at with this whole pregnancy thing, cuz I may never do this again, so I want it written - so I've got it... in case I want it... for some weird reason I can't really anticipate at this very moment...The belly button? Well, it's still half out and &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/Vrn90his5oo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/923358651057938596/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=923358651057938596" title="24 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/923358651057938596?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/923358651057938596?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/Vrn90his5oo/37-40-weeks.html" title="37-40 Weeks" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">24</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/11/37-40-weeks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcGRXo6cSp7ImA9WxNbEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-4024570859915396238</id><published>2009-11-12T09:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T09:47:04.419-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-12T09:47:04.419-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Irrational Thoughts @39 Weeks</title><summary type="html">Apparently at 39 weeks, my brain has gone to mush, because these are the types of [irrational] thoughts I was having yesterday..."I can't go into H&amp;M cuz if my water broke in there, I'd be horrified - everyone's too young and would stare and shit. The Banana Republic crowd seems like THEY'D get it though, so I'll go in there, but I'll stick to the back rows rather than the centre of the store... &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/ubng4T8wM60" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/4024570859915396238/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=4024570859915396238" title="17 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/4024570859915396238?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/4024570859915396238?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/ubng4T8wM60/irrational-thoughts-39-weeks.html" title="Irrational Thoughts @39 Weeks" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">17</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/11/irrational-thoughts-39-weeks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cCRno_fCp7ImA9WxNUF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-2862967620941463136</id><published>2009-11-09T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T09:51:07.444-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-09T09:51:07.444-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="husband" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Why He's My Perfect Match</title><summary type="html">Last night after helping a friend move furniture for their renos (ha ha, ha ha ha!), the husband came home with HIS contributions to the hospital bag...First, the entire set of Friends on DVD. So I have something to distract me [a little] if we're there a long time.Second, and MUCH more importantly, a FOUR HUNDRED GRAM box of Toffifee. Woot!&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/CtNTDBTAXUA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/2862967620941463136/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=2862967620941463136" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/2862967620941463136?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/2862967620941463136?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/CtNTDBTAXUA/why-hes-my-perfect-match.html" title="Why He's My Perfect Match" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">8</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/11/why-hes-my-perfect-match.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8ERn06eyp7ImA9WxNUFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-583400615107347371</id><published>2009-11-07T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T13:20:07.313-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-07T13:20:07.313-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exercise" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Exercise at 9 Months Pregnant</title><summary type="html">Any woman who runs marathons, or hell, who even runs AT ALL at 9 months pregnant, has my complete and total respect. No, make that AWE. Complete AND total AWE. Because seriously, at 39 weeks pregnant, ANY exercise, let alone RUNNING, let alone RUNNING A MARATHON has got to take not only a strength of will I can't fathom, but a body that is the most KICKASS body of all time. I don't know how some &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/eplIMnjkIIE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/583400615107347371/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=583400615107347371" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/583400615107347371?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/583400615107347371?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/eplIMnjkIIE/exercise-at-9-months-pregnant.html" title="Exercise at 9 Months Pregnant" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">8</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/11/exercise-at-9-months-pregnant.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUCRXs7eip7ImA9WxNUFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-3041152645551022872</id><published>2009-11-06T08:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T12:44:24.502-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-06T12:44:24.502-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>The Last Worry</title><summary type="html">Suffering and recovering from this cold in the last week has fortunately and unfortunately, forced me to slow down a little. And while taking some time to rest, to get more sleep, and to stop running around like a lunatic has probably been GOOD for me (I'm feeling much better), it's also been a little too MUCH time.Because suddenly, with time on my hands, I've of course had time to THINK. And no,&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/tbmnGRsOFb0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/3041152645551022872/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=3041152645551022872" title="17 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/3041152645551022872?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/3041152645551022872?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/tbmnGRsOFb0/last-worry.html" title="The Last Worry" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">17</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/11/last-worry.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QHRns4fyp7ImA9WxNUE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-6595669918232451088</id><published>2009-11-04T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T07:42:17.537-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-04T07:42:17.537-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="renos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exercise" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="photos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Busy Little Baker</title><summary type="html">Yea, in the last couple days I've done diddly-squat because of this damn cold (not cuz it's killing me, but cuz I'm trying to REST so it doesn't get any worse, and so I can be better BEFORE labor), and yea it's driving me INSANE cuz I'm someone who NEEDS to be BUSY (even if it IS with menial tasks), but if I take a deep breath, and try to just SUCK IT UP (cuz I DO want to be better PRE-labor), in&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/FXEjfV1UdxQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/6595669918232451088/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=6595669918232451088" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/6595669918232451088?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/6595669918232451088?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/FXEjfV1UdxQ/busy-little-baker.html" title="Busy Little Baker" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__E0JtdxVOXY/SvEcRZJq2cI/AAAAAAAAAeM/GRDTxSZWaHM/s72-c/week38.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/11/busy-little-baker.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUHQXo9cCp7ImA9WxNUEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-6452848303164694938</id><published>2009-11-03T08:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T08:53:50.468-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-03T08:53:50.468-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Looking For A Way Out</title><summary type="html">Last week, before I got sick, this kid was going CRAZY trying to find his way out. And I say "trying to find his way out" because there's no other explanation (at least in MY head) for the stuff he was doing, and for how frequently he was doing it. Unless the little bastard was flipping himself back to breech... which I'll find out at the OB today if he did or not.This movement though, it was &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/d3vp7mj3ms0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/6452848303164694938/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=6452848303164694938" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/6452848303164694938?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/6452848303164694938?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/d3vp7mj3ms0/looking-for-way-out.html" title="Looking For A Way Out" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/11/looking-for-way-out.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cNRXk7fyp7ImA9WxNUEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-5869544133773820716</id><published>2009-11-01T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T09:04:54.707-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-01T09:04:54.707-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="drugs" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>How Pregnancy Changes the Common Cold</title><summary type="html">In the last few weeks, I have been INUNDATED by people asking me whether or not I was going to get vaccinated for H1N1. And while I refuse to get into that answer here (because the debate that will undoubtedly ensue in the comments is NOT something I'm interested in getting into), the thing that's been weird for me is how because I'm 38 weeks pregnant, my opinion isn't just about ME &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/fMFrPZkcfII" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/5869544133773820716/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=5869544133773820716" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/5869544133773820716?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/5869544133773820716?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/fMFrPZkcfII/how-pregnancy-changes-common-cold.html" title="How Pregnancy Changes the Common Cold" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/11/how-pregnancy-changes-common-cold.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEMRX44fip7ImA9WxNVGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-8509354048233570670</id><published>2009-10-30T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T15:11:24.036-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-30T15:11:24.036-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Are YOU Nervous?</title><summary type="html">After the oh-so-lovely, "How are you feeling?" question, the question I get asked the second-most now is, "Are you getting nervous?". Sure, I'm getting nervous about having a BABY, but nervous about the PROCESS that is having a baby? Honestly, not really? And the hard part of the question isn't that I get asked it ALL THE TIME, the hard part is that nobody seems to BELIEVE my answer. They all &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/8QYiVEbNd5o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/8509354048233570670/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=8509354048233570670" title="18 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/8509354048233570670?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/8509354048233570670?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/8QYiVEbNd5o/are-you-nervous.html" title="Are YOU Nervous?" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">18</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/are-you-nervous.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EDQX88eSp7ImA9WxNVFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-2184159630762362802</id><published>2009-10-27T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T19:07:50.171-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-27T19:07:50.171-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>The Adjustment</title><summary type="html">The other night, my Fit4Two instructor (and friend) Dee mentioned she'd read my blog, and how this time right now is probably really GOOD for me. That yea, I'm struggling with not working, and yea, I'm struggling with how freaking LONG it takes me to do things these days, but that once Tiny B arrives, it's going to get even worse. And I need to get used to that.And she didn't mean it like having &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/FYYAUbzCTCc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/2184159630762362802/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=2184159630762362802" title="13 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/2184159630762362802?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/2184159630762362802?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/FYYAUbzCTCc/adjustment.html" title="The Adjustment" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">13</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/adjustment.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEDRHg-eSp7ImA9WxNVE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-3254363016760195579</id><published>2009-10-24T07:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T08:21:15.651-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-24T08:21:15.651-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="renos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Still Not Sure</title><summary type="html">This whole NOT working thing has been REALLY getting to me this week. Like to the point of me getting all teary and emotional with the husband when he was leaving me home alone one morning, because HE had to go to work, and I of course didn't. Like to the point of me getting all EXCITED when a guy on my project team emailed me looking for help on something that he really didn't feel he could &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/eltwGcDI7wM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/3254363016760195579/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=3254363016760195579" title="15 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/3254363016760195579?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/3254363016760195579?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/eltwGcDI7wM/still-not-sure.html" title="Still Not Sure" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">15</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/still-not-sure.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAFR3s6fip7ImA9WxNVE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-5008318639467314014</id><published>2009-10-22T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T09:18:36.516-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-23T09:18:36.516-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exercise" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>35-37 Weeks</title><summary type="html">This Friday, I am OFFICIALLY, full-term. Yup, like I've been pregnant as long as they want you to be. Like I could pop at ANY SECOND. Even though I probably WON'T pop at any second. But hey, at least I COULD pop at any second, and still be considered full-term, which is a mighty good thing as far as I'm concerned.While there's still a lot to do to get READY for said "popping", overall, things are&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/8ydXTkT6GMo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/5008318639467314014/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=5008318639467314014" title="14 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/5008318639467314014?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/5008318639467314014?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/8ydXTkT6GMo/35-37-weeks.html" title="35-37 Weeks" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">14</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/35-37-weeks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYHRXk9eip7ImA9WxNVEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-6342566896472786204</id><published>2009-10-20T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T08:22:14.762-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-20T08:22:14.762-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="renos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Every Day is Like Sunday</title><summary type="html">Being off work is weird. There's this whole LOVELINESS to not working when you don't HAVE to shower if you don't want to, you don't HAVE to do your hair and makeup, and you don't HAVE to pick out an outfit (that hopefully you haven't worn just the day before). But there's also this pressure to use my time WISELY, to GET STUFF DONE. Like yea, SOME Sundays you really can take it easy, but some? &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/MD-8m32IWjg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/6342566896472786204/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=6342566896472786204" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/6342566896472786204?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/6342566896472786204?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/MD-8m32IWjg/every-day-is-like-sunday.html" title="Every Day is Like Sunday" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/every-day-is-like-sunday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUDRns9eip7ImA9WxNWF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-5333034805317606608</id><published>2009-10-16T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T08:17:57.562-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-16T08:17:57.562-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="renos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>How to Have a Heart Attack at 36 Weeks</title><summary type="html">This morning, at 36 weeks, the husband and I had a wee little heart attack. EACH.Me first, when all my bath-water (you know, the bath-water I have to use because after FIVE freaking weeks of renos, I still can't SHOWER in my own house!) turned BRIGHT RED (not blood red, but diluted red). Him next - first when I was yelling for him to come RIGHT AWAY, and then AGAIN when he saw exactly WHY I was &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/VDv44L-oyNI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/5333034805317606608/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=5333034805317606608" title="29 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/5333034805317606608?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/5333034805317606608?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/VDv44L-oyNI/how-to-have-heart-attack-at-36-weeks.html" title="How to Have a Heart Attack at 36 Weeks" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">29</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/how-to-have-heart-attack-at-36-weeks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EHQ3k4fyp7ImA9WxNWFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-1964851569429765068</id><published>2009-10-14T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T17:13:52.737-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-14T17:13:52.737-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>The To Do List Gets Shorter</title><summary type="html">He turned, he turned, he turned! Tiny B is no longer breech! Wahoo!Yes, I KNOW, many babies have done this BEFORE and many babies will do it AGAIN, but with the parents Tiny B has, and their own particular stubbornness and inability to listen to anyone else EVER, I had real doubts he'd ever do as he was told and make the damn turn.While I know things could still change, and I know all the labor &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/ZmpWuADf_XQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/1964851569429765068/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=1964851569429765068" title="21 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/1964851569429765068?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/1964851569429765068?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/ZmpWuADf_XQ/to-do-list-gets-shorter.html" title="The To Do List Gets Shorter" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">21</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/to-do-list-gets-shorter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcEQXc5eip7ImA9WxNWFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-1650917345802586596</id><published>2009-10-13T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T08:00:00.922-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-13T08:00:00.922-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>32-35 Weeks</title><summary type="html">Being pregnant is just plain weird. And not weird in a BAD way, but weird in a WEIRD way. It's this thing that starts off so PAINFULLY slow, and takes FOREVER to get to the point of feeling even SEMI-real, and then suddenly, somehow, you're at 35 weeks and nowhere NEAR ready for all the shit that's about to come. Like you had NINE LONG MONTHS to do all these things, yet in month nine? Well that's&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/-8bm5Z7w034" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/1650917345802586596/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=1650917345802586596" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/1650917345802586596?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/1650917345802586596?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/-8bm5Z7w034/32-35-weeks.html" title="32-35 Weeks" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/32-35-weeks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQFRX44cCp7ImA9WxNWEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-3397274806216605841</id><published>2009-10-10T04:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T05:05:14.038-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-10T05:05:14.038-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="photos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Apparently I Really AM Pregnant</title><summary type="html">For the last 5 years or so, I've been really into taking maternity shots of my friends. Even in the HEIGHT of the infertility crap, even when I CRIED driving home later - I still liked doing them. Cuz they were shots I KNEW they wanted. Cuz it was nice to be able to GIVE them that gift.The hard part during the HEIGHT of the infertility crap was thinking I'd probably never get those shots myself. &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/OG9ngN0zzmo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/3397274806216605841/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=3397274806216605841" title="38 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/3397274806216605841?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/3397274806216605841?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/OG9ngN0zzmo/apparently-i-really-am-pregnant.html" title="Apparently I Really AM Pregnant" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__E0JtdxVOXY/StB3AdfzxcI/AAAAAAAAAds/BQUrJlZixww/s72-c/IMG_3290_1_bw.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">38</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/apparently-i-really-am-pregnant.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8DSXgyeSp7ImA9WxNWEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-2508319280572593667</id><published>2009-10-08T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T19:21:18.691-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-08T19:21:18.691-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="renos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="conversations" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>How Pregnancy Changes Renos</title><summary type="html">[me] "So I'm looking for a glass doorknob... where would I start?"[woman at the doorknob place] "Well, we have a drawer full over there. Do you know if you need the mortis? How big you want your plates to be? If it's a round hole or a square hole?"[me] "I have no idea... I just thought I'd come in and buy a knob?"[woman at the doorknob place] "Oh dear... If we don't have that info, I can't really&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/WfOmoh-R1ZM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/2508319280572593667/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=2508319280572593667" title="14 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/2508319280572593667?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/2508319280572593667?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/WfOmoh-R1ZM/how-pregnancy-changes-renos.html" title="How Pregnancy Changes Renos" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">14</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/how-pregnancy-changes-renos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcMQX05fSp7ImA9WxNXGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-3364234820099194250</id><published>2009-10-06T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T07:08:00.325-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-06T07:08:00.325-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>One Week Left</title><summary type="html">As of Monday, I have five - count em, FIVE - days of work left... for the next year. FIVE. Like one, two, three, four, FIVE.And while I guess I kinda GET that this beer gut I'm sportin' ain't REALLY a beer gut, and I kinda GET that this new acid reflux thing I have going on is the RESULT of that beer gut getting so big, and I kinda GET that that insane DRAGGING along my ribs is NOT beer, and &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/BuNW5-ZpPsc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/3364234820099194250/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=3364234820099194250" title="14 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/3364234820099194250?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/3364234820099194250?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/BuNW5-ZpPsc/one-week-left.html" title="One Week Left" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">14</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/one-week-left.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcGQ3Y9fCp7ImA9WxNXFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-5282102938787911582</id><published>2009-10-03T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T08:17:02.864-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-03T08:17:02.864-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="renos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Did You Hear the One About the Reno?</title><summary type="html">Did you hear the one about the crazy pregnant lady who agreed to renovate BOTH her bathrooms at 30 weeks pregnant, thinking OF COURSE they should do it before the kid arrives, because OF COURSE it's now or never, and OF COURSE doing both at once was better than spacing them one at a time?Did you hear about the fact that she was a Project Manager and really SHOULD have known better than to start &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/8wdiSCDWkvo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/5282102938787911582/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=5282102938787911582" title="17 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/5282102938787911582?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/5282102938787911582?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/8wdiSCDWkvo/did-you-hear-one-about-reno.html" title="Did You Hear the One About the Reno?" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">17</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/did-you-hear-one-about-reno.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EAQ3s7eyp7ImA9WxNXFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-8947221299903105174</id><published>2009-10-01T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T16:27:22.503-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T16:27:22.503-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>I Heart My OB</title><summary type="html">At a time when I've gotten quite emotional at work, I can't say enough how much I heart my OB. And I don't mean I just like him, or that he takes good care of me, or that he's just all around COOL - he's ALL of that(!), but what I mean is that either this guy just "gets me", or his approach is MY approach, and this is all 'round the bestest match EVER.Cuz yesterday in the midst of getting all &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/89OvObMwIKs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/8947221299903105174/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=8947221299903105174" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/8947221299903105174?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/8947221299903105174?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/89OvObMwIKs/i-heart-my-ob.html" title="I Heart My OB" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/10/i-heart-my-ob.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQAQX84eSp7ImA9WxNXEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-2081316439806080498</id><published>2009-09-27T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T07:39:00.131-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-27T07:39:00.131-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exercise" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>Running at 33 Weeks</title><summary type="html">This past Friday, I hit the 33 week mark, which if all goes well, means I have just SEVEN weeks to go - maybe less if Tiny B comes early as Jr suggested he might, maybe more if the old wives' tale of first babies always being late comes true for me. Either way, this kid is sufficiently "baked".In the last week or two, with him sufficiently "baked", things have definitely CHANGED again though. &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/AXsK7p_obBM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/2081316439806080498/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=2081316439806080498" title="18 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/2081316439806080498?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/2081316439806080498?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/AXsK7p_obBM/running-at-33-weeks.html" title="Running at 33 Weeks" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">18</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/09/running-at-33-weeks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIDQ34zfSp7ImA9WxNQGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-8882406374850084033</id><published>2009-09-25T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T10:09:32.085-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-25T10:09:32.085-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends" /><title>Putting a Face to the Voice</title><summary type="html">This week, I had one of the coolest experiences I've had to date with this whole blogging thing - I got to meet Lori IN REAL LIFE!While you'd think as PARTNERS, we'd probably have been long-time friends, or we'd probably at least MET each other through some other means, the coolest and probably weirdest thing, is that nope - we'd never even talked on the PHONE.We're simply just two people who &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/RB1wZPemwWs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/8882406374850084033/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=8882406374850084033" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/8882406374850084033?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/8882406374850084033?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/RB1wZPemwWs/putting-face-to-voice.html" title="Putting a Face to the Voice" /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/09/putting-face-to-voice.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQDRHo7cSp7ImA9WxNQFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359117398398782257.post-8046142191182452047</id><published>2009-09-22T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T18:46:15.409-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-22T18:46:15.409-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exercise" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd trimester" /><title>The Thing Is...</title><summary type="html">While I'm still not thrilled I'm measuring behind, after a few days to stew over it, and a whole LOT of amazing comments reassuring me (thank you!), I've figured out that REALLY, this is all just how it goes. Some things are GOING to get to me, and other things, well they WON'T get to me. And apparently this "measuring behind" thing, well it was one of the ones that was GOING to get me.Yea, part &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~4/vimzpNMFDVg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.bloorb.com/feeds/8046142191182452047/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359117398398782257&amp;postID=8046142191182452047" title="14 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/8046142191182452047?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359117398398782257/posts/default/8046142191182452047?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/bloorb/posts/~3/vimzpNMFDVg/thing-is.html" title="The Thing Is..." /><author><name>chicklet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16090701824999372199</uri><email>her@bloorb.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00529781144273061252" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">14</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.bloorb.com/2009/09/thing-is.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>
