<?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: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-2717129443088621070</id><updated>2012-02-15T23:44:52.221-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cello Mama</title><subtitle type='html'>Mom by day, cellist-by-night</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>109</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-3686877840757214351</id><published>2010-03-23T11:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T11:48:47.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff</title><content type='html'>Hey, all.  Trying to post at least on occasion to make Carrie happy (hi, Carrie)!!  Gotta keep these pregnant ladies happy, y'all.  It's the least we can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So where the heck have I been?  I hardly know.  The last 6 months have been such a blur.  I've been taking care of myself again - eating right, going to the gym, etc.  That feels good.  Been playing waaaaay too much Farmville.  (Must stop.  Really must.  Tomorrow).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls are fantastic.  Kate is FINALLY seeming to make progress on the potty training thing.  Or perhaps I should say I am making progress - because I got so I just couldn't handle the accidents anymore, and my freaking out all the time made things SO much worse.  Kate and I had a rough six months, folks.  ROUGH.  But it seems we've turned the corner, and not constantly dealing with dirty undies (and pants, socks, carpet, furniture) has allowed me to remember how amazing my 4 year old is.  She's talkative, imaginative and she's learned so much.  She's just so grown up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth is a joy.  She talks a blue streak and her favorite phrase is, "I do it!" It is usually followed by success and her shouting (loudly - the girl has lungs), "I did it! I did it! By My-Self!!" mental note: must get that on video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tons to do in the next month.  Pete's sister is getting married May 1st, and I am a bridesmaid.  First of all, let me share that when I ordered my dress in November I ordered a size that was too small in the waist (3 inches) and hips (1.5 inches).  It fits me now - hooray!  But I still must figure out hair, shoes, undergarments.  Must schedule alterations. Have dresses for the girls, but still need to have those hemmed and get tights.  Haven't started on Pete yet.  Planning two bridal showers in the next month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get activities for the girls (Kate, primarily) scheduled for summer or I will spend way too much freaking time on this laptop. I am also just beginning a project to paint nearly our entire house.  We've lived here 8 years and have painted the basement and the girls rooms.  We are far, far overdue.  I am on my orchestra Board and we need to hire a new general manager and concertmaster.  Plus I have something like 10 solos in our April concert, so I have some serious practicing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you don't hear from me again for awhile, that's what is going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Godspeed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-3686877840757214351?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/3686877840757214351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=3686877840757214351' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3686877840757214351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3686877840757214351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2010/03/stuff.html' title='Stuff'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1941512149497917034</id><published>2010-03-07T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T07:57:48.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Freaky</title><content type='html'>Yep, pretty much spot on for a life in IT management at a large company.  Not so much for stay-at-home parent.  But what can you do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Occupational Category&lt;br /&gt;You're an ORGANIZER&lt;br /&gt;Keywords&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Self-Control, Practical, Self-Contained, Orderly, Systematic, Precise, and Accurate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These conservative appearing, plotting-types enjoy organizing, data systems, accounting, detail, and accuracy. They often enjoy mathematics and data management activities such as accounting and investment management. Persistence and patience allows them to do detailed paperwork, operate office machines, write business reports, and make charts and graphs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ORGANIZER CAREERS&lt;br /&gt;Suggested careers are Administrator, Secretary, Printer, Paralegal, Building Inspector, Bank Cashier, Private Secretary, Statistician, Operations Manager, Financial Analyst, Bookkeeper, Medical Records Technician, Developer of Business or Computer Systems, Clerical Worker, Proofreader, Accountant, Administrative Assistant, Banker, Certified Public Accountant, Credit Manager, Store Salesperson, Actuary, Dental Assistant, Business Education Teacher, Food Service Manager, IRS Agent, Budget Analyst, and Underwriter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ORGANIZER WORKPLACES&lt;br /&gt;Your very careful, conscientious, conservative nature gives others the confidence to trust you with handling money and material possessions. Structured organizations that have well-ordered chains of command work best for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suggested Organizer workplaces are large corporations, business offices, financial lending institutions, banks, insurance companies, accounting firms, and quality control and inspection departments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1941512149497917034?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1941512149497917034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1941512149497917034' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1941512149497917034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1941512149497917034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2010/03/freaky.html' title='Freaky'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-3895160606036706741</id><published>2010-02-09T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T11:01:45.958-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I just go to bed now?</title><content type='html'>So far today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I forgot to eat my banana on my way to the gym, resulting in trying to do a 75 min conditioning class on 200 calories of protein.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I 'snuck' out of a very full 75 min conditioning class after 45 min. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Elizabeth fell into a very large puddle of icy slush leaving the gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- While shopping for (dry) clearance pants for Elizabeth at Target (but before buying my groceries), I lost my new leather gloves.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Kate (yes, Kate, my nowhere-near-potty-trained-4-year-old) pooped her pants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The school we plan to send Kate to next fall called asking where Kate’s teacher reference was - they need it this week to decide whether or not to admit her. I haven't even asked for it yet. (Oh well, she probably won't be able to go anyway, because she won't be potty trained).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- After cleaning up Kate (and while on the phone with the school), I learned Elizabeth found the pancake batter and poured it all over the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s hoping this day gets better, and fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-3895160606036706741?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/3895160606036706741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=3895160606036706741' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3895160606036706741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3895160606036706741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2010/02/can-i-just-go-to-bed-now.html' title='Can I just go to bed now?'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-6967003985528919271</id><published>2009-10-09T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T12:07:14.335-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Playdate Shmaydate</title><content type='html'>Kate and her "best friend" Molly are in the same preschool class with another neighborhood boy named Jack.  Since Molly and Jack are both youngest children, when they are in school their moms have actual free time.  So they arranged when school started that they would take turns - on Wednesdays one would drive to preschool and then take them home for lunch and a playdate.  The other would take Fridays.  I was offered to take part.  I am reluctant, to put it lightly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, since they have Weds/Fri, I believe the assumption is that I could take Mondays, but we have a playgroup Monday mornings we've been doing for nearly 3 years (although now just Miss E and I go).  The last thing I want to do is have that whole day taken by obligations.  Also, since I have orchestra on Sunday nights, I often spend Monday afternoons trying to get the house back in order after a weekend of less-than-impeccable cleaning habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I am a big believer in harnessed car seats.  Kate's will allow her to sit harnessed until she's 65 lbs., and I don't care if I have to wrestle her 7-year-old body into that chair, I will. They are the safest way for children to ride in a car.  These moms aren't moving car seats around - they are just using booster seats with shoulder belts - even though our kids are still just a bit too young and small to use booster seats.  When it comes down to it, I don't think I'm quite ready to let someone else drive my kid.  Heck, I haven't even let her grandparents do that, yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, I don't want to sacrifice a big part of a day each week to take care of those kids so their moms can have some kid-free time.  I guess that's in part because I wouldn't get the same benefit.  I don't get kid-free time - I still have Elizabeth around.  I'd rather have Kate here Weds/Fris than do this rotation.  When it's just my kids, I can still get things done.  I can clean, do exercise, do laundry. I can live my life. With three 3-year-olds I will be busy the whole time making sure they don't destroy the house. It's an afternoon gone every week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last, but far from least - I'm not in such a hurry to "get rid" of Kate.  She's already apart from me 3 mornings/week - that's a big change for us.  This would add 2 days/week when she would be gone several more hours.  She's not even four!  I left my career to be home with her - to make her lunches and just be there.  It makes no sense to me that 2 days/week she'd be 5 houses away while someone else feeds her - and I'm right here feeding Elizabeth.  It's already going so fast - why speed it up even more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made a lot of arguments against it.  The big argument for it?  Kate wants to go.  They very kindly offer for Kate to come over for the "playdate" portion of the day, but I don't feel I can let her do that without reciprocating.  And Kate really, really wants to go.  She wants to play with kids all afternoon - even though when she does she is overstimulated and CRANKY. I feel like a totally selfish and mean mama that I don't want to have her friends over here all the time (at this age - later, I hope they practically live here).  I feel sort of stuck on this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, friends, tell it to me straight.  Do I need to get over myself, and have these kids over? Do I need to chill on the whole driving/booster thing?  Am I entitled to think that 3 days of preschool is enough time away and it's OK for Kate to have the down-time at home?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-6967003985528919271?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/6967003985528919271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=6967003985528919271' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6967003985528919271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6967003985528919271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/10/playdate-shmaydate.html' title='Playdate Shmaydate'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-4262606025337114588</id><published>2009-08-21T09:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T09:12:58.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yep, 'cause that's what I really need</title><content type='html'>My mom is sending me links to quack diet programs.  Subtle, eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-4262606025337114588?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/4262606025337114588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=4262606025337114588' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4262606025337114588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4262606025337114588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/08/yep-cause-thats-what-i-really-need.html' title='Yep, &apos;cause that&apos;s what I really need'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2559889556279874578</id><published>2009-07-23T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T08:33:38.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flip-ing Out</title><content type='html'>Got my new Flip MinoHD video camera yesterday.  It's my birthday present.  I know my birthday is in December, but this way I have it to take to Hawaii! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know what it is, you should really check it out &lt;a href="http://www.theflip.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  It's awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So be prepared for some video clips here and on Facebook. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my first clip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-212fb3f9380c55df" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D212fb3f9380c55df%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331912582%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2664B0909007DF70A21A126BC4C1A7EF7036DE0D.1E9B31DD5E028B9C64D78AC40A88B969487D6399%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D212fb3f9380c55df%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D-7LryNhZiYZtEr0_V_W6XVkkaVI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D212fb3f9380c55df%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331912582%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2664B0909007DF70A21A126BC4C1A7EF7036DE0D.1E9B31DD5E028B9C64D78AC40A88B969487D6399%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D212fb3f9380c55df%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D-7LryNhZiYZtEr0_V_W6XVkkaVI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2559889556279874578?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=212fb3f9380c55df&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2559889556279874578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2559889556279874578' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2559889556279874578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2559889556279874578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/07/flip-ing-out.html' title='Flip-ing Out'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1190014189321117102</id><published>2009-06-20T18:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T18:46:43.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Come again?</title><content type='html'>I just told Pete, "I'm like a gay man in a woman's body."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really made sense at the moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1190014189321117102?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1190014189321117102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1190014189321117102' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1190014189321117102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1190014189321117102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/06/come-again.html' title='Come again?'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-6219529699558925307</id><published>2009-05-18T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T13:36:58.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Up-Date</title><content type='html'>Guess what?  I like my husband! And he likes me, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that seems like a silly thing to say, but I must admit to having been a bit of a basket case the last couple of weeks.  Pete shares little in terms of personality with his father.  Regardless, having his dad leave wife #3 did give me panicked moments wondering when I'm going to come home someday and learn that Pete doesn't want to be married anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's wrong for me to doubt Pete like that.  He certainly doesn't deserve it. It unquestionably annoys him. But sometimes having so much divorce in his family gets to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I had a revelation on Friday that I think put those insecurities to rest.  We must have a good relationship - because there's no way I would be THAT excited go to out with him if we didn't!  And he was just as excited! It was like we were actually DATING again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got Elizabeth to bed first (Dana probably isn't quite up to dual bedtime yet) and then took off.  A brief stop at CPK (right next to theater) for our favorite spring rolls and a beer and then off to the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Star Trek was really quite good.  I must admit to being a bit of a Trekkie.  I had three geeky older brothers who introduced me to the first series.  Then in high school, when Carrie was out on actual &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;dates&lt;/span&gt;, I spent WAAAY too much time watching The Next Generation in my basement with Jared.  Pete and I watched Enterprise when we were dating. I don't own any costumes, but am far from the uninitiated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think even someone without these experiences would like this movie. It reinvigorates the whole Star Trek concept. The actors playing Kirk and Spock did a fantastic job of bringing in nuances of the originals without stepping into mimicry.  The supporting characters provided much-needed comedic relief to an intense plot.  Frankly, one of the better movies I've seen in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were still home before 11 - and early night for the old folks - but it was probably the most fun we've had on a date in a long time.  Now we just have to decide what to do THIS weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an aside - I let Kate put lip gloss on, and she is trying to talk without touching her lips together.  Try it.  It's pretty funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-6219529699558925307?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/6219529699558925307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=6219529699558925307' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6219529699558925307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6219529699558925307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/up-date.html' title='Up-Date'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2746844338790913082</id><published>2009-05-18T11:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T11:11:00.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh?</title><content type='html'>Has anyone noticed that the "boy" cow on Back at the Barnyard has udders?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/ShGkkLMbRnI/AAAAAAAAAGE/pyksfw2aTsM/s1600-h/otiscow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 84px; height: 128px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/ShGkkLMbRnI/AAAAAAAAAGE/pyksfw2aTsM/s320/otiscow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337227974797903474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2746844338790913082?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2746844338790913082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2746844338790913082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2746844338790913082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2746844338790913082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/wtf.html' title='Huh?'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/ShGkkLMbRnI/AAAAAAAAAGE/pyksfw2aTsM/s72-c/otiscow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-7083702162605139021</id><published>2009-05-15T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T11:08:06.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Date Night!</title><content type='html'>Pete and I have a date tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we had Kate, we've not been terribly good about such things. I really didn't want to leave her - almost ever - until Elizabeth was born.  I don't know if that was brought on by our struggle to have her, or by the three months I had her in daycare.  All I knew was that being away from her caused me physical pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, with Elizabeth in the picture, that went away.  Maybe I mellowed out.  Maybe I just trust the world in a way I didn't before.  I think part of it is likely just that I'm not leaving them "alone" - they have each other.  But either way, I've been itching to get out more lately.  I've been wanting more time to focus on Laurie the Person instead of just Laurie the Mom.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add to that the very real evidence we've had at what happens if you don't nurture your marriage, and I couldn't get a date planned soon enough! Thankfully, my niece Dana is eager to earn spending money for our family trip this year.  Tonight we'll do a quick dinner and catch the new Star Trek movie.  Next week I'd like to just do a more sit-down dinner and just talk. We haven't had "dates" two weeks in a row in over three years!  I'm so excited!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-7083702162605139021?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/7083702162605139021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=7083702162605139021' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7083702162605139021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7083702162605139021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/date-night.html' title='Date Night!'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-4313733189634872972</id><published>2009-05-15T05:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T05:57:00.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>John Deere</title><content type='html'>I mowed the lawn last night. Ahhhhh. I mowed our lawn growing up (and a couple neighbors' for a few summers) and I always enjoyed it. I love tuning out and enjoying the fresh air and smell of the grass. I love the instant gratification. I love singing my heart out and knowing no one can hear me (yes, they can see me, but I try not to think about that). When I was a high-schooler, it was something my dad actually let me do - and thought I was good at it. Taking care of the yard was one of the very few things I was totally entrusted to do. It makes me feel free and young and alive and competent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete's been working a ton lately, so I wanted to do this to try to take something off of him.  We're a team, so if his workload is higher, then mine needs to be, too.  My goal was to do this so he could spend more time with us on the weekend.  Little did I know that I would be transported back 15 years in the first five minutes.  I am reclaiming my seat on the John Deere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-4313733189634872972?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/4313733189634872972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=4313733189634872972' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4313733189634872972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4313733189634872972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/john-deere.html' title='John Deere'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8263195404760933550</id><published>2009-05-14T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T10:49:22.011-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cariboo</title><content type='html'>Kate's "best friend" Molly came over for a play date this morning.  They are only 11 days apart in age and they play together really well.  Today we all sat down to play Cariboo. Molly doesn't have this game, so she always wants to play it here. I, however, try to avoid it because I go crazy that she still doesn't seem to get the game.  (I know, control-freak much, Laurie?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we were playing again today and Molly was just going through and opening the little flaps without drawing a card first.  I kept reminding her to "Draw a card, Molly, draw a card!" when Kate looked at me and said, "Why are you being so mean, Mommy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mean?" I asked, incredulously.  I thought my tone of voice was OK, I was really just being a nag more than anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, you're being mean about making Molly draw a card."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry, honey.  I was not trying to be mean.  Molly doesn't have to draw a card if she doesn't want to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay.  That's better."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And more than my shame at the fact that I was bullying little Molly, I was flooded with pride.  Not only did Kate sense I was getting frustrated, but she called me on it.  She stood up to me to protect her friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how can I tell her to always do that?  Always and forever?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8263195404760933550?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8263195404760933550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8263195404760933550' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8263195404760933550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8263195404760933550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/cariboo.html' title='Cariboo'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1444758554523667465</id><published>2009-05-13T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T21:30:58.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A very depressing thought</title><content type='html'>Dinner went fine tonight.  He mostly played with the girls while I fixed dinner, and then Pete got home.  I wonder if he hears the crickets chirping when he tells us some other "awful" thing about her.  We don't want to be unsupportive, but we just don't know what to say.  He seems to be doing well, though, and that's the most important thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the hardest things for me about this whole situation is that the entire M clan barely seems to care that this woman won't be part of the family anymore.  I think they've been together 10 years - they've been married 7 1/2 - and not a single person seems to care she'll be gone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same thing happened when Pete's sister got divorced a few years ago. I thought it was just the guy.  But now the same (non)reaction about Marilyn. In fact, in both cases the family almost seems glad that they're gone. With so much divorce in the family (only his grandparents and one aunt/uncle have NOT been divorced) perhaps it's to be expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As someone who married into the family, it literally makes me sick to my stomach to think that they would react this way if it were me.  I think of them as my family - I genuinely care about them and enjoy seeing them.  Would I just get a half-hearted shrug, too?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1444758554523667465?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1444758554523667465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1444758554523667465' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1444758554523667465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1444758554523667465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/very-depressing-thought.html' title='A very depressing thought'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2115556103436834460</id><published>2009-05-13T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T11:07:23.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner</title><content type='html'>Jim's coming over for dinner tonight, and I begged Pete to try to be home early so I didn't have to be "alone" with him for too long.  Don't get me wrong - I love my father-in-law.  But I just don't know what to say.  What do you say to a grown man going through his third divorce?  Whose wife claims to be totally taken unawares?  There are plenty of things I could say, but probably none I should.  (repeating to myself: "This is not my problem.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim tries to explain to us what happened, and most of his "reasons" are the little things.  The peccadilloes we all learn about when we live day-in/day-out with someone.  My personal opinion, he just decided he didn't want to be married anymore. And I don't know if that's a good enough reason to walk away.  But there's no way to really know what that marriage was like, so I'm really trying not to make assumptions - trying to withhold judgment. That's so hard for me to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Marilyn's son's abuse via Facebook last week, I de-friended them both, and asked Marilyn to stop emailing me. If by some miracle they reconcile that may be tough to explain, but I just needed to get out of it, and fast.  I haven't heard anything from them since, thank God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole thing gives me a pit in my stomach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2115556103436834460?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2115556103436834460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2115556103436834460' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2115556103436834460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2115556103436834460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/dinner.html' title='Dinner'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8520379863307563762</id><published>2009-05-12T18:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T18:42:07.014-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard</title><content type='html'>Singing along to the Beatles - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I get by with a little help from muffins."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, honey.  Don't we all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8520379863307563762?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8520379863307563762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8520379863307563762' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8520379863307563762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8520379863307563762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/overheard.html' title='Overheard'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8124031175346041595</id><published>2009-05-12T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T18:41:15.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pillow Talk</title><content type='html'>"Mommy, can we be mamas together?  Oh.  No, I can't be a mama, I'm too little.  But when I grow up I'm going to be a mama!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh! That's great, honey.  Being a mama is a wonderful thing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Or... maybe I could be an ice cream truck driver.  Then I could give out ice cream to other children and eat some, too!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8124031175346041595?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8124031175346041595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8124031175346041595' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8124031175346041595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8124031175346041595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/pillow-talk.html' title='Pillow Talk'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5586706884013670284</id><published>2009-05-10T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T18:42:07.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shafted</title><content type='html'>Good thing I am so grateful for being a Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I got totally shafted today.  No gift, no card, nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I got to sleep in an extra hour, during which time Pete cleaned the kitchen.  I guess that counts for something?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5586706884013670284?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5586706884013670284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5586706884013670284' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5586706884013670284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5586706884013670284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/shafted.html' title='Shafted'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8007931144502689507</id><published>2009-05-07T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T18:20:15.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Juuuuuust Great</title><content type='html'>Now I'm getting chewed out publicly by Marilyn's son on Facebook.  (well, me, Pete, his sister, etc).  Apparently they think we've known for months this was coming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How the HELL is this becoming MY business???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8007931144502689507?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8007931144502689507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8007931144502689507' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8007931144502689507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8007931144502689507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/juuuuuust-great.html' title='Juuuuuust Great'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2333570397799153752</id><published>2009-05-07T05:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T05:49:06.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Rule</title><content type='html'>Infants and children in diapers should not be allowed to eat asparagus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2333570397799153752?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2333570397799153752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2333570397799153752' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2333570397799153752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2333570397799153752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-rule.html' title='New Rule'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8152562822760035928</id><published>2009-05-06T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T08:58:25.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gorgeous!</title><content type='html'>If you ask me, Minnesota weather doesn't get any better than it is today.  Since the girls are both still feverish (but otherwise OK) we skipped school and my dentist appointment (so sad).  I piled both girls in the BOB and we headed off on a long walk, with a playground stop in the middle.  This weather is like heaven on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is a good thing, since I could use the distraction from my idiocy.  I sent out an email to family about Elizabeth's 1st birthday party, and forgot that the email address I had was for Jim AND Marilyn.  Marilyn got it.  She's now sent me three emails about how shocked she is, how much she loves the girls, etc.  I have no idea what to say and really just want to stay out of the whole mess. That's what I get for sending emails late at night when I'm exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is SO nice to not have anything going on today.  We're over-scheduled this semester (yes, for my 3-year-old) and it's gotten really old.  So I'm classically over-compensating and have nothing but swimming lessons scheduled for summer.  I'm really looking forward to it now but will probably be going stir-crazy by mid-June!  But I can't wait to get up and go to Elm Creek Park and take a long walk and then go swimming in that fabulous swim pond!!  I am SO ready for summer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8152562822760035928?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8152562822760035928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8152562822760035928' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8152562822760035928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8152562822760035928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/gorgeous.html' title='Gorgeous!'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5334855421481413791</id><published>2009-05-05T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T15:06:49.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stream of consciousness update post...</title><content type='html'>Hey.  You've been warned - this will ramble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long time no... well... anything.  I'm so out of the loop that I just found a card from Meigan from a month ago wondering where I'd disappeared to.  Oops.  Sorry, Meigs.  I'm alive!  I will email you this week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember I posted awhile back about getting over myself?  Well, that's generally gone quite well.  I sort of burst through the post-baby-blues and suddenly started taking care of all kinds of business.  The result is that I've been keeping myself busier than I have in a long time.  My house has been clean enough most days that my MOM could come by unannounced and it would be OK. (For those who know my mom, that is saying something). I also am having on-going carpal tunnel issues.  If I'm on the computer too long in the evening my hands are so numb and tingly I can hardly sleep, so I haven't been on too much.  Should probably see a doc about that someday, but I'm sort of in denial about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am the only one in my family not sick.  I'm actually not sure if it's a cold or the flu.  Pete just has a bad headache.  Kate woke up in the middle of the night with a fever and bad cough.  Neither of us really slept.  Elizabeth woke up from her nap with a fever.  I'm going to see what plays out.  I'm quite proud of myself, really, because I had a couple of weeks there where I was so freaked about "swine flu" that I was starting to stockpile food.  So far, the fevers are mild and they are generally "normal" so I'm just taking it hour by hour, as you do with little ones who are sick.  Kate fell asleep on the sofa about a half hour ago.  I'm trying to decide whether to try wake her up for a bath (never works) or just let her sleep through til morning, when she'll get up at 5AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been really busy lately helping plan festivities for my parents upcoming 50th anniversary.  We are all taking a trip (all siblings, nieces, nephews) in August and we are also throwing them a party.  So far, I'm pretty much doing everything.  I'm not at all resentful of that, but I am thrilled we finally got this vacation figured out because it was exhausting me to do all of this research and have my parents change direction with the wind.  Now I just have a pit in my stomach about how much it is costing them (they insist on paying for us all, which is absolutely insane).  I guess now I can start focusing on their party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have this trip coming up with my 3 size-4 sisters and 1 size-2 brother's-girlfriend, I have gotten moving again on the weight loss.  I lost about 10 lbs. in March, but totally lost steam in April, so now I've got 13 weeks to shed as much as I can.  I will still be an elephant compared to my family, but at least I'll hopefully fit in my swimsuit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of anniversaries... or NOT having anniversaries... we found out last night that Pete's Dad is getting a divorce.  Not a huge surprise - Jim has dropped lots of hints - but it's still kind of big news around here.  They had a prenup so hopefully it won't be too protracted.  Now we just need to figure out how to explain to Kate why she doesn't have 3 grandmothers anymore.  It's not like we're close enough to Marilyn that we'll stay in touch, really.  But she has been there Kate's whole life, and I think she will be very sad to not see her anymore.  I have no idea what to do on that.  Do we tell her upfront?  Do we wait for her to ask where Grandma Marilyn is?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth is tired of being ignored.  Since we're the only ones awake right now I should probably give her some attention. Just wish me luck that tonight I will get some sleep, and avoid this illness myself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5334855421481413791?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5334855421481413791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5334855421481413791' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5334855421481413791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5334855421481413791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/05/stream-of-consciousness-update-post.html' title='Stream of consciousness update post...'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-6778959666671301964</id><published>2009-03-05T06:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T06:05:43.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I must be doing something right</title><content type='html'>In the midst of this long, cold, dark winter, if Kate sees sunshine she starts singing The Beatles "Here Comes the Sun" and insists I join in with her.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why that makes me so happy, but it does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-6778959666671301964?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/6778959666671301964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=6778959666671301964' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6778959666671301964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6778959666671301964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-must-be-doing-something-right.html' title='I must be doing something right'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2684284779590791547</id><published>2009-02-22T09:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T09:39:55.971-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stye-Me(d)</title><content type='html'>Ouch.  I have a stye.  For those who've never had one, it's essentially a pimple on the edge of your eyelid. (oops, hope you're not eating lunch right now).  I've had a few in my life - this is by far the worst.  It doesn't really look gross, it's just red and a little swollen, but it hurts and itches like H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks.   They usually go away in a few days, but in the meantime I'm not supposed to wear eye makeup or contacts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, right.  Like that's going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one thing - no eye makeup?  Maybe.  I'm not quite &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;vain that I will self-destruct without my daily dose of Covergirl.  But no contacts?  I have a 9 month old - I will be wrestling glasses out of her little fingers about every 3 minutes.  Plus, I HATE wearing glasses at orchestra.  I have these teeny rimless specs which provide no peripheral vision - I can't see the music and the conductor in the same field, so I wind up bobbing my head up and down like a chicken.  Perhaps I should get a pair of &lt;a href="http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c345/lilmisspriss888/Pink%20Rock%20Candy/AmAp-VintageEyewear.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;big, round 80's glasses&lt;/a&gt; just for these circumstances?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In happier news, I am the proud owner of a &lt;a href="http://www.grantviolins.com.au/cello_case/BamXlight.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;new cello case&lt;/a&gt;, about which I couldn't be more thrilled.  Not exactly great times to be dropping cash on things, but my last cello case weighed a whopping 17.5 lbs and this one a mere 7.5.  Even with my cello in it it weights noticeably less than my old one does empty!  My back and shoulder are rejoicing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have to line up some gigs to help pay for it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2684284779590791547?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2684284779590791547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2684284779590791547' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2684284779590791547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2684284779590791547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/02/stye-med.html' title='Stye-Me(d)'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-3052262390231402186</id><published>2009-02-12T13:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T13:34:21.824-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And not a moment too soon</title><content type='html'>Twice this week, Kate has gotten up in the morning, taken off her PJ pants and diaper, and peed on the potty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still have a long way to go, but at least we're headed in the right direction!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEE HAW!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-3052262390231402186?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/3052262390231402186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=3052262390231402186' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3052262390231402186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3052262390231402186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-not-moment-too-soon.html' title='And not a moment too soon'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1537735478998576692</id><published>2009-02-12T12:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T12:59:50.904-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Completely unsolicited product placements</title><content type='html'>A couple of weeks ago &lt;a href="http://www.sothefishsaid.com/2009/02/the_beth_is_very_ashamed_of_he.html"&gt;Beth Fish did a "Meme"&lt;/a&gt; and invited all who read her to participate.  Now, with my pathetic blogging track record, answering 5 whole questions seemed a bit much for me.  But I was struck by this question:  "What's the best thing since sliced bread?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I have a few things in my life that I sing praises for every time I use them - most of which have been discovered since I became a parent.  So I'm going to tell you about some of them.   I think it goes without saying that no funds were exchanged to compel these endorsements. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Razors with built-in "shave gel", namely the &lt;a href="http://www.drugstore.com/products/prod.asp?pid=163166&amp;amp;catid=89899"&gt;Gillette Venus Breeze&lt;/a&gt; or the &lt;a href="http://www.drugstore.com/products/prod.asp?pid=165559&amp;amp;catid=89899"&gt;Shick Intuition&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;When I first saw the ads for these, I figured they were a gimmick.  That such a small amount of "gel" could hardly compensate for a good soap and a high quality razor.  I was wrong.  They each have their pros and cons but I just rejoice every time I use them.  I know, I know - you wonder how long it really takes to suds up your legs in the shower.  Longer than you think!  I have not used a "plain" razor since the first time I tried one (shaving my calves with a bottle of water sitting on a curb in a parking lot).  The only downside is that they are pretty expensive.  But it's a great time-saver.  I never get razor burn and very rarely nick myself.  They are worth every penny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;a href="http://www.clorox.com/products/overview.php?prod_id=ctw"&gt;The Clorox Toilet Wand&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;When I first had Kate crawling around and getting into everything like a rabid Tasmanian devil, I realized something had to be done about the toilet brushes.  There wasn't much I could think of that would be grosser than her getting ahold of one of those (except perhaps the plunger).  Plus, I tried to find ways to not have as many toxic cleaning chemicals in liquid form around.  These work great, and then you toss the little cleaning pad and just have this easily hidden, innocuous little stick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  The &lt;a href="http://www.stacksandstacks.com/4-bag-laundry-sorter-antique-bronze/1307/11329/?id=175&amp;amp;sku=131863"&gt;4 Bag Laundry Sorter&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Laundry is the bane of my existance.  With E in the picture now, I just couldn't possibly get it all done in one day, so we'd wind up with these sorted piles all over the floor until I actually managed to get through it all.   Now we don't have baskets in the closets anymore.  We just have this one hamper and all clothes go directly into it - pre-sorted! Not only do I no longer have the drudgery of marathon laundry sorting/washing sessions (I do one load a day), but since I keep up with the laundry now &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we need fewer clothes!!!&lt;/span&gt;  Seriously!  My mom is horrified that I have this hamper out in my bedroom but I don't really care.  It's awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  My beloved &lt;a href="http://www.imagesupply.com/productcart/pc/viewPrd.asp?idcategory=125&amp;amp;idproduct=930&amp;amp;emailmarket=brotherlabelmaker.com"&gt;label maker&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing wastes time like having to hunt for things when you want to use them.   I use my label maker ALL the time!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there's my list.  I realize they might be seen as expensive and certainly not too "green", but for now they're helping me manage my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about you?  What are your timesaving finds??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1537735478998576692?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1537735478998576692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1537735478998576692' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1537735478998576692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1537735478998576692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/02/completely-unsolicited-product.html' title='Completely unsolicited product placements'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1080458780508139023</id><published>2009-02-11T07:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T07:33:17.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am so over myself</title><content type='html'>Hey, all.  Sorry about the self-absorbed maudlin twist to this blog lately - that is, when I could be bothered to write.  We've been sick a lot in this house this winter and there has been far too much navel-gazing than is good for me. As Simon Cowell would say, it's total "self-indulgent nonsense" and it's time for it to stop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, what the heck?! about me getting so worked up about some of my neighbors.  These are nice women who are just going about their lives.  If I am totally honest, I highly doubt they are trying to exclude me.  They just aren't worrying about including me.  Can I blame them?  They are busy moms of lots of kids - I think they have better things to do.   And I could certainly make a few moves myself instead of waiting around.  Those of you who've known me a long time know that I'm a bit of a homebody and while I like to do things, am rarely a social planner.  Time to change that or quit my bitching!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Simon Cowell, any other American Idol watchers out there?  I enjoy the show, but if Tatiana gets through tonight I may have to boycott until she's gone.  I just can't take another minute of her screen time.  I think she is a no-talent hack and one of the most annoying people I've ever seen.  If she makes it through tonight that screaming you hear will be me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh!  I've been reading again!  For years now, the only books I've read have been "classics" that I had already read a bunch of times - Jane Austen, Tolkein, Harry Potter, Wheel of Time.  Now I do love to re-read books but this was getting excessive.  So my one sort of unofficial resolution was to start reading books I'd never read before.  If you count fiction and non-fiction, I've read 7 books this year.  Some have been good, some not so much.  Perhaps some book reports will be forthcoming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other exciting news from the homefront - after  (counting....counting....) THIRTY-ONE years of playing the cello, I am the proud new owner of a Wenger Cellist Chair.  It's a special chair that tilts down a tiny bit in the front to help get a good position for playing.  I am very excited.  It helps, too, because it's actually quite a bit harder to play with the extra weight I'm carrying right now.  My posture is off and all that belly fat pushes the instrument out at a funny angle.  So this actually helps that a bit.  Now it's time to start practicing more again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to start doing a lot of stuff again.  Exercising, eating right, knitting, sewing, practicing, etc.  That "new baby" excuse has worn pretty thin, seeing that she's 8 1/2 months old now!  So hopefully I will start doing more.  And do Facebook less.  And actually have something to blog about!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1080458780508139023?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1080458780508139023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1080458780508139023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1080458780508139023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1080458780508139023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-am-so-over-myself.html' title='I am so over myself'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5390931255478445184</id><published>2009-02-06T12:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T13:00:50.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On the plus side</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SYykQEGT_kI/AAAAAAAAAF0/0a4WhNEwMYI/s1600-h/DSC_1034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SYykQEGT_kI/AAAAAAAAAF0/0a4WhNEwMYI/s320/DSC_1034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299791457393311298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kate just spelled her name out on the floor with the little plastic magnetic letters.   No coaching, no prodding.  I was sitting here blogging and she came to get me so I could see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How cool is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh... and clearly, Elizabeth is screwed. We need a nickname.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5390931255478445184?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5390931255478445184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5390931255478445184' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5390931255478445184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5390931255478445184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/02/on-plus-side.html' title='On the plus side'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SYykQEGT_kI/AAAAAAAAAF0/0a4WhNEwMYI/s72-c/DSC_1034.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5142394695749661261</id><published>2009-02-06T12:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T12:52:21.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I'll go eat worms</title><content type='html'>One of the more surprising things I've discovered about being a SAHM in a rather private neighborhood is that it's a LOT like high school...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...except for the big group of friends I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two other girls Kate's age in the neighborhood.  A couple weeks ago one of their moms emailed me and said they were going to trade off at their houses each week for playdates (drop-your-kid-off playdates, not come-in-for-a-cuppa playdates).  She said Kate was welcome to stop in whenever we wanted.  Kindof a backhanded invite, but I thought I'd take it, for Kate's sake.  Kate has swimming lessons which would keep her from being able to stay the whole time, but I said I'd be happy to join in on the hosting rotation once those were done.  Kind of got brushed off, but didn't let it get to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I dropped Kate off there for a little bit and mentioned to the other mom that I'd be happy to reciprocate on a rotation.  Blank stare.  Followed by some mumbling and a sort of "well, we can see about that."   I know a brush off when I get one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit myself a bit stung.  I mean, do they not trust me with their kids?  True, I don't know them super well, but I've lived 4 houses away for 7 years.  If I was truly psycho, perhaps they'd have figured that out by now?  I haven't screwed Kate up too much yet, doesn't that indicate that maybe I'm an OK mom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then today, I drive by one of their houses (since I'm on a cul-de-sac, I can't help but drive past everyone) and see the cars of pretty much ALL the SAHMs in the neighborhood in front of her house.  Now, true, perhaps there was some perfectly sensible reason they were all together and I was not included.  But that's far too forgiving an attitude for how I'm feeling this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give up.  I am SO OVER trying to "fit in" with these women, when I clearly do not.  Most of them seem very nice on their own, but I am pretty obviously the square peg, as I have almost always been in my life.  So I'm done.  I won't avoid them, I'll be happy to see them and chat with them, but I'm letting go of caring whether or not they like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so liberated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5142394695749661261?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5142394695749661261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5142394695749661261' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5142394695749661261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5142394695749661261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-think-ill-go-eat-worms.html' title='I think I&apos;ll go eat worms'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8325866179119240858</id><published>2008-12-10T14:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T14:39:38.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An update</title><content type='html'>Remember my post about my friend (Jared's wife) whose mom was in critical condition and dad had cancer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mom died 9 weeks ago.  Her dad died today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't even imagine how hard that must be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8325866179119240858?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8325866179119240858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8325866179119240858' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8325866179119240858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8325866179119240858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/12/update.html' title='An update'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1882567530270526782</id><published>2008-12-04T20:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T20:36:52.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons to lose the baby weight</title><content type='html'>In no particular order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The very few photos taken of me since Elizabeth's birth must be burned&lt;br /&gt;- I can't wear my engagement/wedding rings&lt;br /&gt;- I have to fly to AZ in March and won't fit in the seats&lt;br /&gt;- My gut is so big it gets chafed in the front where it rubs against my clothes&lt;br /&gt;- I only have 3 pair of (non-maternity) pants that fit me.  Even my fat-girl sweats are too small.&lt;br /&gt;- I weigh more than my husband - ooh, such a turn on (not)&lt;br /&gt;- I have gorgeous and ridiculously expensive Joe's Jeans that are ~4 sizes too small&lt;br /&gt;- I am a crappy role model for my two girls&lt;br /&gt;- It is bad for my health, big time&lt;br /&gt;- It makes me unhappy.  Unhappy mom = bad mom.&lt;br /&gt;- Back, knees, ankles - all designed to carry 50 lbs. less&lt;br /&gt;- I am withdrawing socially.  I don't want to go anywhere, see anyone looking like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even recognize myself.  I haven't lost a single lb. in almost 6 months and I am miserable.  Yet I can't seem to get it together enough to do something about it.  I've yo-yo'd before, but this is the first time that I've ever been honestly worried that I won't be able to do it and I will be fat and unhappy forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1882567530270526782?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1882567530270526782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1882567530270526782' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1882567530270526782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1882567530270526782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/12/reasons-to-lose-baby-weight.html' title='Reasons to lose the baby weight'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-3618078637827169954</id><published>2008-11-18T12:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T12:28:36.184-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bright Side</title><content type='html'>The only good thing about a husband who &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;never &lt;/span&gt;gives you flowers is that when he is deep in a doghouse of his own making and THEN sends you flowers, you at least know he understands that he really screwed up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-3618078637827169954?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/3618078637827169954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=3618078637827169954' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3618078637827169954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3618078637827169954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/11/bright-side.html' title='The Bright Side'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5420904758621893365</id><published>2008-11-11T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T18:30:30.527-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud of someone I never knew</title><content type='html'>My dad sent this out today, about his father.  My grandfather died the year before I was born, so I never met him.   I knew he had won the silver star, because it was engraved on his headstone, but hadn't heard the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To honor all veterans today I will share this story of this one hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"90 years ago today my dad, a 21-year-old Marine, participated in the Meuse-Argonne Offensive in France - now know as the Battle of the Argonne Forest.  1,200,000 Americans along with soldiers from other countries participated.  Forgotten in history, it was reported as the bloodiest battle ever for American soldiers, although it seems ot me there were bloodier battles for Americans in the Civil War.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early in the battle he single-handedly attacked and wiped out a German machine gun nest for which he won the Silver Star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hours before the armistice was called, my dad was walking along with four of his buddies, two on each side of him.  A shell landed right next to my dad killing the two guys on each side of him and he escaped uninjured.  Without counting, I think he has over 150 direct descendants now. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, Grandpa.  And thanks to all the other people I never knew who protect our country and others. &lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5420904758621893365?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5420904758621893365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5420904758621893365' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5420904758621893365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5420904758621893365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/11/proud-of-someone-i-never-knew.html' title='Proud of someone I never knew'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-6885351640055065010</id><published>2008-10-27T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T17:39:31.014-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Big-a&amp;&amp; Baby</title><content type='html'>The girls and I go to a playgroup every Monday - we've been going weekly for almost two years now. Since Elizabeth was born, there have been two more baby girls born in the group. Amaya is 4 weeks old and Nadia a mere 4 days - just born last Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we took a shot of our 2008 girls... and it's crazy!! It looks like someone took two pictures of babies from different perspectives and spliced them together!! While 4 months difference is a lot in babyhood, it's still just a few months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, man, what a difference it makes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SQZe3hbMMlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/8dpCpnADPSk/s1600-h/DSC00458.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 312px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SQZe3hbMMlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/8dpCpnADPSk/s320/DSC00458.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261997522587234898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-6885351640055065010?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/6885351640055065010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=6885351640055065010' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6885351640055065010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6885351640055065010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-big-baby.html' title='One Big-a&amp;&amp; Baby'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SQZe3hbMMlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/8dpCpnADPSk/s72-c/DSC00458.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2760356657410736277</id><published>2008-10-09T06:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T06:44:46.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Even more too much information</title><content type='html'>The kicker is that Kate pooped &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;on purpose&lt;/span&gt; because she wanted to see what it looked like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, oh why, can I not get this kid to sit on a potty???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2760356657410736277?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2760356657410736277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2760356657410736277' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2760356657410736277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2760356657410736277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/10/even-more-too-much-information.html' title='Even more too much information'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-640161619782680031</id><published>2008-10-08T17:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T17:32:33.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rub a Dub Dub, Kate Pooped in the Tub</title><content type='html'>Things I would rather have done tonight than cleaned poop out of the bathtub (and then sterilized it and all bathtoys):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Write my 30 very overdue thank-you notes&lt;br /&gt;- Clean my kitchen floor with a toothbrush&lt;br /&gt;- Finish folding the clean laundry&lt;br /&gt;- Wash the dirty laundry&lt;br /&gt;- Have a root canal&lt;br /&gt;- Write a decent blog post&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't my life sexy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-640161619782680031?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/640161619782680031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=640161619782680031' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/640161619782680031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/640161619782680031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/10/rub-dub-dub-kate-pooped-in-tub.html' title='Rub a Dub Dub, Kate Pooped in the Tub'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2149679206945595508</id><published>2008-10-02T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T07:48:49.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much</title><content type='html'>Life has been a bit out of hand for me these days.  I felt I was just barely holding it all together with the two kids.  Add in one major construction project and it's all in chaos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then comes a dose of major perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My good friend Laura (Jared's wife, for you Austinites) could possibly lose both of her parents soon.  Her mom had a clot in her mesenteric artery, which killed a lot of bowel.  She was in failing health to begin with, and this just threw her into a spiral.  She's not been conscious since the surgery over two weeks ago - she's been on full life support.  And it sounds like perhaps they're not expecting recovery any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, her dad is in the midst of yet another chemo for his metastatic kidney cancer.  Today they find out if it is working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her folks live in Boston.  She lives here with Jared and their two kids.  She's an only child.  I can only imagine being so far away (although of course she's been there often the past few weeks) and having no one else to share the burden and the grief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes the petty foibles of my life seem pretty minor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone feels like offering up prayers for a stranger, she could use them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2149679206945595508?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2149679206945595508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2149679206945595508' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2149679206945595508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2149679206945595508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/10/too-much.html' title='Too Much'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-4368528499955314010</id><published>2008-09-13T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T12:02:43.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baptism</title><content type='html'>Thanks to everyone who asked about the baptism.  I think it went really well.  We did a group baptism service outside the Mass instead of doing it as part of the Mass.  But, we were the only ones in our "group" so we wound up essentially having a private service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The service itself was fine.  Frankly, considering that was all we were there to do (no communion, homily, etc.) I thought it took way too long.  But it did the job, I guess.  I guess I should just be thankful we never had to kneel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth was enraptured by the deacon as he talked and seemed to pay more attention than any of the rest of us.  Then he took her to be dipped (our church does baptism by immersion, so she was stark naked and dunked in the pool up to her chest three times).  She cried, of course, like all babies do (although the water was nice and warm) but then every time after that the deacon so much as looked at her, that bottom lip came sticking out and she fussed.  As a parent, I finally really understand what my parents meant when they used to tell me they could "hang a bucket on that lip".  She knew he had taken her from me and gotten her wet, and she wasn't going to forget it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through most of the service itself, Kate was up at the altar with us, and loving being up at this "stage" in front of all the family in her princess dress.  At first it was subtle, looking out, smiling &amp;amp;  being coy.  Then she moved over and sat down on the steps.  Then down the next step, smiling and flirting with her cousins in the pews.  Then back up the steps and the whole thing started over.  Pretty soon she was practically prancing up and down the steps and around the alter, loving having all those eyes her direction.  Meanwhile, I'm holding E and trying (pretending?) to look all serious and spiritual and thoughtful as the deacon spoke, unaware that Kate was completely stealing the show behind him.  My mom finally couldn't take it anymore and started trying to get Kate to come sit with her, when the deacon called everyone up to the altar to witness said dunking.  Not a moment too soon.  A few minutes longer and I think there probably would have been a tap dance and perhaps a song or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The luncheon afterwards went well, too.  I went easy this time around and just did ham &amp;amp; turkey sandwich bar with salads, chips, bars, etc.  It was really nice to be able to just take saran wrap off trays and be able to eat so quickly.  I had a new innovation in my entertaining process that we're going to carry forward.  I knew we would be tight for counter space for all the food, so I had mapped out in advance where I wanted everything to make sure I knew what went where.  I wrote post-its for each thing (beverages, coffee, salads, meat, cheese, etc.) and put them on the counter where I wanted them.  I got more than a little flack for that as family arrived, but it worked great.  As Pete helped take things out, he knew right where they went.  Similarly, as family arrived bringing things they also knew right where to put them.  Just that tiny extra bit of planning probably saved at least a dozen questions at a time where I had other things to be doing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, everytime we entertain we do a "post-mortem", where Pete and I talk through what worked well about our gathering and what didn't quite work, to look for ways we can improve for the next time.  It's really helped us make entertaining less stressful and more seamless.  I know.  Dorks.  But hey, at least we haven't started a spreadsheet to track these things.  Hmm.  A spreadsheet on parties... to track things we learn.... hmmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, we're off to go look at rocks.  Seriously.  More to follow later on orchestra and house...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-4368528499955314010?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/4368528499955314010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=4368528499955314010' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4368528499955314010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4368528499955314010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/09/baptism.html' title='Baptism'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2736233759564976095</id><published>2008-09-06T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T10:28:44.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Squeezed</title><content type='html'>That's how I feel right now.  Squeezed by everything I have to do in the next 48 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is E's baptism, followed by a family lunch here at our place.  That may not sound like much, but between my family and Pete's that's over 30 right there.  Throw in just a couple of friends and it's a madhouse.   I'm keeping it easy this time - just sandwich fixings, etc. as opposed to the sit-down brunch I did for Kate, but it's still a lot of work and I'm just not feeling up to it.  Plus, I have nothing to wear.  The weight simply refuses to budge and other than some cheap summer clothes I have two pair of pants that (almost) fit and no shirts except maternity.  I have to get this weight off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of the issue is that E is having a growth spurt.  So she's up during the nights and eating constantly during the day.  She's nursing so much I feel physically worn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also were supposed to choose our contractor last night, but we were just too tired.  I'm at a point where I need to stop thinking about it until later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow night is also my first orchestra rehearsal of the new season, and I've hardly practiced.  Thankfully, the music will be simple enough to sight read - even considering how out-of-shape I am.  But I also have to get seating figured out for my section.  I guess I'll do all this tomorrow after everyone leaves.  Last night I dreamed that they took the new cellist we have joining us this year and made him principal.  Guilty conscience, you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So wish me luck.  My happy thought right now is that by Monday this will all be over, and then I can focus on the house stuff again and getting my fat butt in the gym.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2736233759564976095?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2736233759564976095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2736233759564976095' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2736233759564976095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2736233759564976095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/09/squeezed.html' title='Squeezed'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5349455111519165801</id><published>2008-08-31T10:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T10:37:12.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I can take a hint</title><content type='html'>Happy Labor Day weekend! Here are some relatively recent pictures of my girls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SLrWoF08N0I/AAAAAAAAADE/JI1tmPIL1F0/s1600-h/DSC_0423.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SLrWoF08N0I/AAAAAAAAADE/JI1tmPIL1F0/s320/DSC_0423.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240737100646332226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SLrWoglZctI/AAAAAAAAADM/5RlNFTJbM9E/s1600-h/DSC_0499.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SLrWoglZctI/AAAAAAAAADM/5RlNFTJbM9E/s320/DSC_0499.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240737107828896466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SLrWoh0ID0I/AAAAAAAAADU/uJm_4QdcA-o/s1600-h/DSC_0553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SLrWoh0ID0I/AAAAAAAAADU/uJm_4QdcA-o/s320/DSC_0553.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240737108159106882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SLrWogvqymI/AAAAAAAAADc/ipgFUgg5GBw/s1600-h/DSC_0620.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SLrWogvqymI/AAAAAAAAADc/ipgFUgg5GBw/s320/DSC_0620.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240737107871976034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5349455111519165801?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5349455111519165801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5349455111519165801' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5349455111519165801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5349455111519165801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-can-take-hint.html' title='I can take a hint'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SLrWoF08N0I/AAAAAAAAADE/JI1tmPIL1F0/s72-c/DSC_0423.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-3057887860888677838</id><published>2008-08-30T11:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T11:39:11.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rolling, rolling, rolling</title><content type='html'>Apparently my wee one did a 180 today - tummy to back.  And I missed it (at the salon for a much-overdue hair appointment).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how exciting it is.  I thought perhaps it wouldn't be quite such a thrill the second time around, but it is!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-3057887860888677838?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/3057887860888677838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=3057887860888677838' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3057887860888677838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3057887860888677838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/08/rolling-rolling-rolling.html' title='Rolling, rolling, rolling'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-4706424616132990001</id><published>2008-08-28T17:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T17:26:08.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unbelievable</title><content type='html'>I'm almost scared to type it out loud... like it will somehow jinx it and make it never happen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth slept for 12 straight hours last night.  She's 12 weeks old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, unbelievable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-4706424616132990001?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/4706424616132990001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=4706424616132990001' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4706424616132990001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4706424616132990001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/08/unbelievable.html' title='Unbelievable'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1519118821856970020</id><published>2008-08-27T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T20:38:35.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids: 1, Mom: 0</title><content type='html'>I definitely lost the battle today (and my sanity, and my temper).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The destructive power of a 2 year old on a rainy day is remarkably similar to a big puppy.  I didn't sleep worth a darn last night (shoulder/neck issues), and was woken at 5AM (by said 2 year old) thanks to the thunderstorm.  All a recipe for an unhappy day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God grant me the grace and patience to be a better mama tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1519118821856970020?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1519118821856970020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1519118821856970020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1519118821856970020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1519118821856970020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/08/kids-1-mom-0.html' title='Kids: 1, Mom: 0'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5488721444943769073</id><published>2008-08-26T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T16:10:29.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the Saddle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://starkravingcello.blogspot.com/2008/08/upon-your-return.html"&gt;Emily's post&lt;/a&gt; today was quite appropriate, since today was my first major practice session since April 27th.   I've picked up my cello now and again since Elizabeth was born, but just for a few minutes at a time.  Now, with my orchestra season less than two weeks away, it's time to get serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like coming home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are a bit tight, especially since I'm always carrying at least one child in my arms and my trapezius is generally a wreck.  All things considered, though, it wasn't too terrible.  It's quite exciting, really, how much my chops have come back since I got my new cello.  Last summer in particular I practiced a lot and I think was pretty much back to my college level (in fact, I have surpassed my abilities then in some areas thanks to the playability of this instrument).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard auditions last night and it was just such a joy to be back with my fellow principals.  I'm looking forward to getting my seating figured out for the season.  I only wish this season had a bit more excitement musically.  After  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ein Heldenleben&lt;/span&gt;, I suppose anything is going to seem anti-climactic, but the first concert is focused on Opera, and we have several members of the MN Opera coming to sing with us.  Woohoo &lt;sarcasm&gt;.  Don't get opera much, and the cello parts are BORING.  In fact, for one of the pieces we're doing I think we have 4 different notes through the entire piece.  I guess I should look on the bright side that bowings and fingerings will be easy to get done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we'll just see if I can practice enough in the next two weeks, with all else I must do, and E's baptism coming up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5488721444943769073?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5488721444943769073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5488721444943769073' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5488721444943769073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5488721444943769073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/08/back-in-saddle.html' title='Back in the Saddle'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8342808005441313456</id><published>2008-08-16T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T18:50:47.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What was I thinking</title><content type='html'>In the past, I've twice given Kate's hair a little trim, and it's turned out quite well.  Well, third time was not-so-charming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been debating whether to cut bangs for her or to grow her hair out.  The issue is that to grow it out I have to find a way to keep it out of her face.  It's hard to find clips to stay in her very fine hair, and the few I have she takes out as soon as she's out of my eyesight.  I finally decided I had to get her bangs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd trimmed her hair before and it was fine, and it appears my ego got the best of me.  I totally butchered her hair (front and back).  The bangs are way too short and are crooked.  The back didn't start out so short, but she kept moving and I kept trying to even it out, so it just kept getting shorter and shorter.  It needs to be on the shorter side - she doesn't have enough hair to grow it long yet - but this is crazy.  People will think she's a boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am literally just sick over this.  I can't get over it.  I feel so bad - I'm so glad that she's too young to get how goofy it looks.  And we have Lizzy's baptism in 3 weeks, with pictures, etc.  Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Pete is "disturbed" that I am so upset by this, but I have a thing about hair.  I know I get freaked out by haircuts, etc.  That's why I've never taken her anywhere to have it cut - I was too afraid they'd make her look weird.  Well, there's no way they would have made her look this weird.  I know it's probably not healthy that I'm this upset by it and this is not a good thing to be "modeling", but frankly she's now less cute than she was a few hours ago, and it's my fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kind of want to take her somewhere to have it evened out, yet at the same time I REALLY don't want it to get any shorter.  I think I'll just have to keep trying to pin the bangs back until they grow out enough to even them off.  Then I'm going to let them grow completely - I don't like a true "bang" on her.  I don't know what to do.  I guess I'll get a deserved penance just having to look at her for the next month or two or however long it takes for her to start to look normal again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My poor little princess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8342808005441313456?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8342808005441313456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8342808005441313456' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8342808005441313456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8342808005441313456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-was-i-thinking.html' title='What was I thinking'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1516215687194347494</id><published>2008-08-13T12:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T12:30:30.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Updates</title><content type='html'>I cannot believe how fast August is flying by.  It's crazy.   I remember when I was a kid my Dad telling me that time seems to go faster as you get older.  I thought he was nuts.  Man, it's so true.  Pete's theory is that the perception of time is a parabola and that sometime around 70 or so it starts to slow down again.  Wouldn't that be nice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth continues to be a ridiculously easy baby.  I don't remember the last night she didn't have at least a 5-6 hour stretch.  In fact, two nights this week she's slept for 8 hours straight, followed by a four hour stretch.  It's amazing.  I think Kate was 9 months old before she slept 8 straight hours.  I put her down for naps drowsy, but awake, and she puts herself to sleep.  She almost never cries, and smiles and coos like crazy.  I know - I almost even hate myself.  But I figure she owes me for all that puking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had her two month appointment last week.  She's a big girl.  She's off the charts for length (24 3/4") and 90-95% for weight (12lbs., 12 oz.).  Not quite as big as Kate, who was off the charts for both.  Still, that means I probably have a month or so before she outgrows her infant car seat.  I don't quite know what I'm going to do if she's too big for that but too little to hold her head up consistently.  I guess I'll have to hope I can snag a shopping cart with the built-in baby seat(and hope she's not too heavy for it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate is doing great.  She's been very into music lately, and even once last week demanded we go downstairs so I could play cello for her.  She sings a lot - mostly songs she makes up.  She has also recently decided that the English language doesn't have enough words in it, so she makes up new ones.   Makes for some confusing conversations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's a very affectionate big sister and has to kiss &amp;amp; hug Lizzy often through the day.  She's starting to show interest in dolls, now, too.  Her favorite (whom she named "Poppy Seed") looks remarkably like Elizabeth.  Kate will bring her on the sofa when I'm nursing, lift up her shirt, and put Poppy Seed's mouth on her belly button so she can "nurse" her baby, too.  It cracks me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also have another addition to the family - a new Honda Odyssey minivan.  There are several moms in my neighborhood who eschew the minivan.  To each their own, I guess, but I'm thrilled to have one.  The automatic sliding doors, all the space, the rearview back-up camera... it's this mom's dream car (for now).  So, if you know anyone interested in a 2002 Ford Explorer with a little body damage... what?  what's so funny?  why are you laughing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week is Pete's birthday.  Since I got him the Wii for Father's Day, I'm probably not going to do the PS3 for Bday.   I'll save that for Christmas.  I'm debating between a digital TiVo and an XM radio.  Decisions....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got our RFPs for our house out a couple weeks ago.  I've been crazy busy meeting with contractors who come out to ask some questions, measure, take pictures, etc.  It looks like we'll get 7-8 bids altogether, and our deadline is next week.  I'm looking forward to getting a handle on what this is going to cost us (and hope we don't regret buying that minivan). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I have tried twice to start Weight Watchers, and quit both times because it killed my milk supply.  This is seriously bumming me out.  It's true what "they" say - it's tougher to lose it the second time.  It just fell off after Kate, but this time I haven't lost a pound in 6 weeks.  I am 35 lbs. above my prepregnancy weight (55 lbs. above my pre-trying-to-have-a-baby weight).  And I can't diet and feed my baby at the same time.  "Bugger" seems to sum it up pretty well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1516215687194347494?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1516215687194347494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1516215687194347494' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1516215687194347494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1516215687194347494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/08/random-updates.html' title='Random Updates'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-146149702463988366</id><published>2008-07-30T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T20:18:33.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Judgmental</title><content type='html'>Me, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the people who were in SuperTarget tonight at 9:27 PM with their approx 2 yr olds.  All three of you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go home, put your kids to bed, and find some other time to do your shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...ah, I feel better now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-146149702463988366?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/146149702463988366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=146149702463988366' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/146149702463988366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/146149702463988366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/07/judgmental.html' title='Judgmental'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-7505510486247459971</id><published>2008-07-25T15:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T15:39:01.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cha-ching</title><content type='html'>I don't know why I'm fretting so much about the Wii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just ordered a new set of cello strings.  'Bout the same price as the Wii, and will last about 6 months, if I'm lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did I ever try the Larsens??  Now I can't go back to anything else, and I think they're the most expensive strings on the market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-7505510486247459971?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/7505510486247459971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=7505510486247459971' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7505510486247459971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7505510486247459971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/07/cha-ching.html' title='Cha-ching'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-945420040360487839</id><published>2008-07-24T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T20:21:42.965-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Wii or not to Wii</title><content type='html'>Awhile back, Pete was reading an article about the Wii, which he was saying made him pretty interested in getting one.  He hadn't been all that interested prior, but whatever it was impressed him.  Mental note made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to get him one for Father's Day, but as many of you know, Wiis are a bit thin on the ground these days.  After months of staring at a blank spot on the shelf at Target, I walked in on Sunday and asked if they actually ever got some in stock.  He moved over to show me a stack of 100 Wii units they had just gotten in that morning.  I bought one on the spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I don't even remember how I got on the topic, but Pete made some comment about wanting a PS3 because there's going to be a Top Gear game coming out (a British car show he's crazy about).  I nonchalantly asked him if he'd rather have a PS3 or a Wii, and he said a PS3. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now what do I do??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-945420040360487839?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/945420040360487839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=945420040360487839' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/945420040360487839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/945420040360487839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/07/to-wii-or-not-to-wii.html' title='To Wii or not to Wii'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2310820675923181605</id><published>2008-07-24T14:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T15:29:34.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not every blade of grass is greener...</title><content type='html'>The worst thing about being a stay-at-home parent is definitely the isolation.   It gets really tough when the most meaningful conversation you have during the day is trying to explain the concept of a bank to a 2 year old.  Today is one of those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first quit my job, that year was really tough.  I hadn't really met other moms or my neighbors, so it was largely just Kate and I staring at each other all day.  As I started getting some activities scheduled and as Kate got older, things got much better.  I'd reached the point where I was pretty "independent" again.  Kate didn't nap and was a trooper about running errands, so we could pretty much go where I wanted when I wanted.  During the school year, we had activities scheduled 4 days a week (the 5th was grocery shopping).  We were busy and it was fun.  Now I feel I am starting over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing Elizabeth was coming in June, I purposefully didn't sign up for summer activities.  I figured I would be as physically out-of-it as I was after Kate's birth and it would be more than I could handle.  Wrong. I also thought, since it was summer, we could be outside all day long together and it would be idyllic.  Wrong again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate is bouncing off the walls the last couple months, not having more stimulation.  She's watching more TV than I could ever admit to the internet.  We can't be outside that much, because it's too hot for Elizabeth (and I find the heat much tougher to bear with all this extra weight).  Elizabeth is a lousy on-the-go sleeper.  For her to have a decent nap, she needs to be at home in her crib.  Suddenly, I am house-bound again and it is killing me.  I am tired from the night wakings and I find myself crabbing at Kate in a way that makes me so sad.  I am a shrew of a mom these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spend way too much time on the computer - I think trying to feel connected to something. (Thank God for the computer - I can't even imagine what it was like for my mom - home with 4 little kids with no car, computer, PBS Kids or Nick Jr.)   There just isn't anyone to talk to.  Everyone I know is either working or busy with their own kids.  And I should be busier with mine than I am, but I just can't seem to get engaged without that activity in the morning to get my butt in gear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this post could he written by a lot of stay at home parents, but this self-pity party was inspired by something specific.  I had arranged for my niece Maddie to come over and get Kate outside today so I could clean and do laundry.  I called my sister this morning and she had totally forgotten and made other plans (my sister's completely insane self-absorbed schedule is a whole 'nother post).   I don't know who was more disappointed - me or Kate.  I feel just terrible that she is cooped up in the house with me all day.  I am so mad at my sister - and I know it's probably not fair - but I had canceled having my other niece Dana come over because Jen had been pushing me to ask Maddie, and then bailed on me.   I just felt like that was going to be a bright spot in the week and it fell through because my own sister completely forgot that she had made a commitment to me.  Nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm scraping through the day.  I was going to work out when Maddie was here, but instead I am on the sofa eating Dove chocolate (the 50 lbs. I have to lose are also a whole 'nother post).  It's gloomy and muggy outside, and I really can't call my mother yet again, so it's coming out here.  I know I'm just being a whiner.  I know full well how many parents would love to be able to stay home with their kids.  I totally get how lucky I am that this is something we can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But right now the thought of back to back meetings and more emails than I could possibly read sounds pretty appealing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2310820675923181605?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2310820675923181605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2310820675923181605' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2310820675923181605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2310820675923181605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/07/not-every-blade-of-grass-is-greener.html' title='Not every blade of grass is greener...'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-6113661485867741808</id><published>2008-07-23T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T13:42:23.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeouch...</title><content type='html'>I walked into the nursing bra section of Target today where a 60-ish woman was shopping.  When she saw me, she said, "Oh good, you'll know about this.  My daughter is 4 months pregnant with her second.  What kind of bra would be good?"  A long conversation followed about maternity vs. nursing bras, underwire vs. not, and the need of a lined bra cup when you're pregnant (which no "maternity" bras seem to have).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She then noticed the kids in my cart and asked their ages.  "2 1/2 years and 7 weeks," I replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Seven weeks!" she exclaimed.  "And you're pregnant again already?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I informed her as politely as I could that I have yet to regain my washboard abs since Elizabeth was born, (but geez, thanks for pointing that out).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just plain &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mean&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-6113661485867741808?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/6113661485867741808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=6113661485867741808' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6113661485867741808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6113661485867741808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/07/yeouch.html' title='Yeouch...'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-3522677534864569100</id><published>2008-07-22T19:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T19:46:23.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Zoo Out There</title><content type='html'>Today I took the girls and met some friends at Como Zoo for an outing.  It was really a beautiful day for that kind of thing - not too hot, but nice and sunny.  It went pretty well, over all, considering it was my first big outing like this with both of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things I learned from this excursion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my BOB Duallie stroller.  It totally rocks.  And it really does fit through doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You can never have too many snacks with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's darn near impossible to use a public restroom with a toddler and an infant (and a diaper bag, etc.).  I had to pee from 10AM until 2PM.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Zoos geared towards children still somehow manage to be built in a way that totally blocks them from seeing squat from the stroller.  They have to be picked up.  What the heck??&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watching Kate's little hand squeeze under the sunshade to pat Lizzy on the head when she fussed was about the sweetest thing I've ever seen.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Nice to be back in the week after our busy weekend.  Cul-de-sac party on Friday night.  &lt;a href="http://tiredmom-journeytotri.blogspot.com/"&gt;Meigan&lt;/a&gt; came to visit with her adorable girls on Saturday AM.  Friends for dinner that night.  Pete's Grandmother's 90th birthday party on Sunday.  Ugh.  Never thought I'd reach a point in my life where I look forward to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;weekdays &lt;/span&gt;as a chance to "relax".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which, I'm off to bed.  G'night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-3522677534864569100?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/3522677534864569100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=3522677534864569100' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3522677534864569100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3522677534864569100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-zoo-out-there.html' title='It&apos;s a Zoo Out There'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-4851410673819641840</id><published>2008-07-09T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T19:49:03.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please stop posting about bugs</title><content type='html'>Okay, between &lt;a href="http://naturallyoptimistic.blogspot.com/"&gt;Carrie's wood ticks&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://tiredmom-journeytotri.blogspot.com/"&gt;Meigan's centipedes&lt;/a&gt; I have the creepy crawlies like I can't describe.  I swear there are little bugs crawling all over me and am going a bit psycho about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, no more buggy posts.  Or at least give me a few weeks to recover...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeeeech (shudders)  Compared to those two stories, I'll happily take the poop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-4851410673819641840?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/4851410673819641840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=4851410673819641840' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4851410673819641840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4851410673819641840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/07/please-stop-posting-about-bugs.html' title='Please stop posting about bugs'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1087537775734441287</id><published>2008-07-07T13:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T13:03:29.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Poop Hunt (or, The Glamorous Life of a SAHM)</title><content type='html'>I just spent ~30 minutes on a poop hunt.  Kate had such a big one that it went up her back.  Then, she leaned against something and it kind of stuck there (she's in a dress, no less).  I didn't realize it, and then picked her up and carried her up to change her - only then to realize we had been dropping teeny bits of poop the whole way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had more fun in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1087537775734441287?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1087537775734441287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1087537775734441287' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1087537775734441287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1087537775734441287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/07/poop-hunt-or-glamorous-life-of-sahm_07.html' title='The Poop Hunt (or, The Glamorous Life of a SAHM)'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-442693477032483088</id><published>2008-06-26T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T11:28:13.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Name That Tune</title><content type='html'>Who needs sleep?&lt;br /&gt;(well you're never gonna get it)&lt;br /&gt;Who needs sleep?&lt;br /&gt;(tell me what's that for)&lt;br /&gt;Who needs sleep?&lt;br /&gt;(be happy with what you're getting&lt;br /&gt;There's a guy who's been awake&lt;br /&gt;since the Second World War)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know.  It's really about insomnia.  But still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth is actually doing quite well, but between her and Kate I am the walking dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-442693477032483088?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/442693477032483088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=442693477032483088' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/442693477032483088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/442693477032483088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/06/name-that-tune.html' title='Name That Tune'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2338125389703802847</id><published>2008-06-13T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T18:52:57.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Girls</title><content type='html'>I know it's just gas, but it's still cute...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SFMj0qHfZxI/AAAAAAAAACs/2JxCz7YBavs/s1600-h/DSC_0262.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SFMj0qHfZxI/AAAAAAAAACs/2JxCz7YBavs/s320/DSC_0262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211548581363672850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking a little nap in pink...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SFMj-Z9imqI/AAAAAAAAAC0/GkzG4jlWXuc/s1600-h/DSC_0272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SFMj-Z9imqI/AAAAAAAAAC0/GkzG4jlWXuc/s320/DSC_0272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211548748825664162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate loves to kiss and hug Elizabeth, but just asked to hold her for the first time yesterday.  She's a proud big sister (who has mastered the classic toddler "fake smile for the camera").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SFMj-leGo2I/AAAAAAAAAC8/uKN__cPw6Hc/s1600-h/DSC_0276.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SFMj-leGo2I/AAAAAAAAAC8/uKN__cPw6Hc/s320/DSC_0276.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211548751915033442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2338125389703802847?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2338125389703802847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2338125389703802847' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2338125389703802847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2338125389703802847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-girls.html' title='My Girls'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SFMj0qHfZxI/AAAAAAAAACs/2JxCz7YBavs/s72-c/DSC_0262.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1572293922746776507</id><published>2008-06-13T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T18:45:28.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birth Story</title><content type='html'>Things are finally starting to resume some sense of normalcy in our house.   Pete went back to work on Tuesday, and I'm pleased to report that the adjustment to two kids hasn't been quite as tough as I expected so far.  Elizabeth has been an easy and generally contented baby, and Kate has continued to adapt well to her presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to share the story of Elizabeth's birth before it had been so long I started to forget things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night (June 1st) I noticed while taking Kate up to bed that my knees were hitting my stomach when I went up the stairs.  That was my first hint that the baby had "dropped", and according to What to Expect, in a second-time mom that normally doesn't happen until labor is "imminent".  Sure enough, around midnight I started feeling contractions.  While it was enough to wake me up, I was able to mostly sleep through them until almost 2AM.  I hadn't gone to bed until 10:30, and assuming I would have a full day of labor ahead of me, I wanted to get as much sleep as I could.  Around 2, there was no sleeping through them anymore, but I still tried to rest inbetween and started casually timing them.  They were about 7 minutes apart for 45 minutes or so when I decided it was time to get up.  I kind of figured that once I was up and about that they would starting coming faster/harder - I had no idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up and had a bowl of cereal and tried to get a few last minute things ready and time my own contractions.  By 4 AM I couldn't time them myself anymore - they were too strong.  I woke up Pete and we started getting ready, but at this point they were coming really hard and fast.  We essentially threw a few final things in the bag and called my sister-in-law Sue to come stay with Kate and then the doctor.  I told Sue to "come now, but you have time to brush your teeth, etc."  Heh heh.  By the time she got here, the contractions were so strong that I could barely recover from one and the next hit.  The doctor still hadn't called back, but I told Pete if she didn't call by the time Sue arrived, we were leaving anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, the doctor called as Sue arrived, which was good, because at about the same time my water broke.  Here I'd spent weeks dreading this moment of driving away from Kate - of being so worried and sad for her that I cried and cried thinking of it.  Had someone asked me about it then, I think I would have said "Kate who?"  Things were a bit intense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got to the hospital and Pete parked outside the ER and ran to get a wheelchair.  We managed to get me in it between contractions and he flew to the L&amp;amp;D triage unit.  They were expecting us and got me in for assessment.  My first words were "I would like an epidural!".  She checked me and I was at 8 cm.  I heard her call out in the hall - "I need a room - I have a ruptured 8" and then there was a flurry of activity.  They just wheeled the triage bed - fast - into a delivery suite.  Turns out there wasn't time for an epidural, but there was for something called an intrathecal (like an epidural, but just a spinal injection - not a catheter).  The L&amp;amp;D nurse was my total hero at this point - she frantically got an IV in and squeezed that saline bag for all it was worth so I could get the intrathecal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I wanted to push like mad, so she did this in between really helping me fight that urge.  She had these really intense blue eyes - isn't it strange the things you notice at times like that?  Oddly, looking at her helped me keep the focus better than looking at Pete.  She had this great "Don't you even think about pushing - you can do it, girl" look on her face that I needed.  Pete looked too... caring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The intrathecal was a godsend.  It worked &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fast &lt;/span&gt;and I was numb from the waist down.   Pete and I joked that we probably "spent" about $2k for that shot to get me through 4 more contractions.  It was worth it!  The doc arrived in about 10 minutes and I was ready to push.  I started pushing and count to 10 - and then to 10 again - and again.  Then the doctor said, "Look down!"  I thought she was going to show me she was crowning, but instead there Elizabeth was!  My first exclamation was, "She's OUT already?!?!"  I just couldn't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot of differences having your second compared to your first, as I discover daily.  A big difference was that Elizabeth looked about how I expected her.  She looks like Kate, without question, but not identical.  Yet still, there was an instant familiarity I didn't feel the first time.  It's like the first time you're still learning how to bond - how to make that connection - and this time it came right away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is my daughter.  My beautiful baby girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1572293922746776507?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1572293922746776507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1572293922746776507' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1572293922746776507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1572293922746776507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/06/birth-story.html' title='Birth Story'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-4096735297191600323</id><published>2008-06-03T18:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:08:05.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Lizzy</title><content type='html'>Doing this one handed, so will be brief.  Here she is, ready for her close-up.  More to follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SEXq4WArq8I/AAAAAAAAACk/neehH-IZqaw/s1600-h/Elizabeth+Anne.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SEXq4WArq8I/AAAAAAAAACk/neehH-IZqaw/s320/Elizabeth+Anne.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207826797825862594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-4096735297191600323?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/4096735297191600323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=4096735297191600323' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4096735297191600323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4096735297191600323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/06/little.html' title='Little Lizzy'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/SEXq4WArq8I/AAAAAAAAACk/neehH-IZqaw/s72-c/Elizabeth+Anne.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-7941795602268894449</id><published>2008-06-02T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T13:27:57.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Elizabeth Anne</title><content type='html'>...joined our family at 6:38 this morning.  She weighed 8 lbs.,  2 oz, and is 21 inches long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Labor wasn't quite as fast as &lt;a href="http://naturallyoptimistic.blogspot.com/"&gt;Carrie's&lt;/a&gt;, but close.  She came 42 minutes and one push after arriving at the hospital.  We are all doing great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More info and pictures to follow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-7941795602268894449?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/7941795602268894449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=7941795602268894449' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7941795602268894449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7941795602268894449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/06/elizabeth-anne.html' title='Elizabeth Anne'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-9034214116198781624</id><published>2008-05-28T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T14:25:55.964-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too much time on their hands</title><content type='html'>I actually had a comment on my post from yesterday that was someone hawking some crapola heartburn remedy.  Seriously?!?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-9034214116198781624?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/9034214116198781624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=9034214116198781624' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/9034214116198781624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/9034214116198781624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/05/too-much-time-on-their-hands.html' title='Too much time on their hands'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-3191800644195601582</id><published>2008-05-27T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T13:06:59.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now with a side of heartburn</title><content type='html'>The fun just keeps mounting here in the final countdown.  Now I have some pretty fiendish heartburn almost every time I eat, but especially when I eat chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In some ways, cutting out chocolate is good.  After all, I'm at the point where I know that every ounce put on now will have to start coming off in the next couple of weeks.  But still, I'm huge, uncomfortable, exhausted and I can't even have a brownie???  C'mon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate is taking a very rare nap at the moment, so I'm off to get stuff done.  I've gotten so much done around here the last few days and am starting to feel good and ready for whenever this baby may come.  Just a bit more to go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, I have a date with a Tums bottle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-3191800644195601582?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/3191800644195601582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=3191800644195601582' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3191800644195601582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3191800644195601582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/05/now-with-side-of-heartburn.html' title='Now with a side of heartburn'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-30681189517266711</id><published>2008-05-26T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T19:03:24.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>iTunes 101</title><content type='html'>A couple of years ago I got an iPod Nano.  Hardly had anything on it, used it seldom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete bought me an iPod Touch for Christmas.  It is pretty much the coolest gadget ever, and inspired me to start really getting on board with it.  With that, though, I've still been lax in terms of getting music loaded, and definitely in terms of getting my music organized through iTunes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm just finally learning the very basics about iTunes, even though I've used it for a couple of years, because I'm just now really getting organized.  Until today, I probably had a GB of classical music all in one playlist titled "orchestra".  I haven't really taken the time to think through what I want to do.  The complete flexibility and control is almost too much to wrap my brain around - it's such a huge mental change from CDs.  I finally realized that it's essentially a relational data warehouse, upon which I can build all sorts of views to access the data in different ways.  Once I started conceptualizing it that way (my IT nerd background coming in really handy) it all started making sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the light bulb has finally turned on regarding how this will revolutionize my classical music collection.  Classical music is different.  Very rarely do I feel like listening to "something Brahms", like I would feel like listening to something by Barenaked Ladies, but don't really care what.  Generally, I want to listen to the Brahms double, or the B Major Trio, etc.  The sucky thing is that classical CDs almost always have many different compositions on them - sometimes by many different composers.  So in our 400 disc changer, I not only have to figure out which CD it was, but which track, etc.  All that is gone, now.  I can have playlists by composer, by music type (symphony, concerto, etc.), by artist... it goes on and on.  I could spend months and months slicing and dicing it so many different ways (well, after spending months trying to get everything loaded).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just need to figure out all this compression/bit rate stuff, so I can make sure I'm not totally destroying my classical music.  Although, frankly, most of the time my iPod will be used in situations where it's not an ideal listening experience anyway, so some quality loss is probably not the end of the world.   I have no plans of ditching my CDs as of yet, and I suppose that when I get to that point, memory will be so cheap that to store everything in a lossless data format will be much more feasible than it ever could be now with my 8GB Touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah... I love technology.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-30681189517266711?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/30681189517266711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=30681189517266711' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/30681189517266711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/30681189517266711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/05/itunes-101.html' title='iTunes 101'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-7680684959650858637</id><published>2008-05-25T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T08:42:38.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Braxton *#&amp;$% Hicks</title><content type='html'>I've had far fewer BH contractions with this pregnancy overall.  My doc says it's probably because I get more rest, have more access to the bathroom and am better hydrated since I'm not working.  Completely valid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, all of a sudden it seems my body has realized it needs to squeeze this giant baby out (the average guess right now is around 9 lbs. - I'm huge) in the coming weeks, and is practicing with a vengeance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are definitely BH, not the real thing.  But MAN are they annoying.  They were actually waking me up last night because they are strong enough to squeeze all the air out of my lungs.  I can only hope it will pay off when D-Day arrives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave it to my uterus to function just like I do - wait until the last minute and then cram like crazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-7680684959650858637?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/7680684959650858637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=7680684959650858637' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7680684959650858637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7680684959650858637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/05/braxton-hicks.html' title='Braxton *#&amp;$% Hicks'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8771857225980064659</id><published>2008-05-21T13:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T13:24:54.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting There</title><content type='html'>Thank you for the encouragement last week on the bag.  I actually got a good deal of it done that day.  I got smart this time and just bought travel-sizes of several things, so I can just get them in the bag.  Other than needing to load some music on my iPod and toss in a few things, I'm pretty much set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One question - a lot of books recommend packing food for the husbands.  We didn't do this last time in part because we had no time and in part because we had a doula who had told us she was willing to do food runs when needed.  Did any of you do this?  It's pretty easy to throw in a granola bar or some nuts, but at our refresher childbirth class they practically suggested a picnic.  That seems excessive to me, but perhaps it is a good idea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I went to get a "big sister gift" for Kate.  I got her something from us and something from the baby.  Last week we bought something for her to give the baby, so that's all ready.  I'm feeling SO much better having this done.  That was the one huge thing on my list I was concerned about not having done.  At this point, if I went into labor tomorrow I would be in decent shape *huge sigh of relief*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, given my appointment today, going into labor tomorrow is a long shot.  There's pretty much nothing going on.  Of course, it was the same way with Kate and she came out eventually, so I'm not too concerned.  I still don't feel quite ready yet.  I just have the mindset that she'll come within a few days of the due date, like Kate did.  Of course, if I keep retaining fluids like I have this week, I'm going to be hoping that comes fast.  I put on 5+ lbs. this week...  no wonder I can hardly bend my fingers!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which, I've reached my laptop limit for my hands (they get numb in about 15 minutes) so I'm off.  Have a great sunshiny day!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8771857225980064659?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8771857225980064659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8771857225980064659' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8771857225980064659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8771857225980064659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/05/getting-there.html' title='Getting There'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5878914819700926401</id><published>2008-05-18T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T20:55:37.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Girl Sleeping</title><content type='html'>This weekend we &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt; got Kate's big girl room put together.  The bed is in and made.  The dresser, lamp, bookshelf all ready to go.  Books and little girly things moved.  The only big thing we're missing are the curtains (and some stuff on the walls, but I suck at that).  I bought the curtains at Pottery Barn Kids and I discovered &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after &lt;/span&gt;ironing them that one was about 2 inches shorter than the other.  ARGH.  I'll have to take them back this week and just have them open packages there until I find two the same length. (and then I can post pictures)  I also still have to move her clothes over this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Kate wanted to sleep in there tonight.  My brave girl.  I had to snuggle with her for a long time, and even after that it took her FOREVER to fall asleep - so much new to look at, I suppose.  But she's asleep right now in her twin bed (no bed rails!) and so far, so good.  She looks so little in that great big bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I tucked her in, I went into the nursery to get some more wee baby things to wash and prepare.  The room smells like Kate, yet looks so bare now with all her things gone that I let myself just weep for a few minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My big girl.  I'm so proud of her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5878914819700926401?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5878914819700926401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5878914819700926401' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5878914819700926401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5878914819700926401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/05/big-girl-sleeping.html' title='Big Girl Sleeping'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-7510630413995376593</id><published>2008-05-13T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T20:38:10.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not packing</title><content type='html'>I have reached the point of pregnancy where I no longer want to do anything but sit around.  This is problematic, since I still have a lot of things to do to get ready for having this baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one, I have not yet even started packing a bag.   I did the same darn thing last time - thinking, oh, I have a list, it'll just take a minute to throw stuff together.  Well, it took us FOREVER to get everything pulled together when we had Kate, to the point where we then wound up stuck in traffic on the way to the hospital.  And this time, I will have to focus that pre-hospital time on making sure I've got everything lined up for Kate.  I need to get this done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I find it so intimidating?  It just sounds like a lot of work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-7510630413995376593?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/7510630413995376593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=7510630413995376593' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7510630413995376593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7510630413995376593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-have-reached-point-of-pregnancy-where.html' title='Not packing'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2873667789079068185</id><published>2008-05-13T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T20:50:56.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess that makes me the nursemaid</title><content type='html'>Was outside with Kate this afternoon and had to come in to go to the bathroom (what else is new).  I was holding her hand when I told her, and in a tizzy she went boneless and collapsed to the ground.  When the intense crying/screaming started, I assumed it was just 2-year-old in action and slung her in my arm like a sandbag and hefted her in.  She stood in the bathroom door, holding her hand and saying "Arm hurts! Arm hurts!  Kiss it, Mama!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still thought it was just drama, but when we went back outside and she wanted to snuggle instead of run around like a crazed weasel, I started realizing something was up.  Pete came home and within a few minutes we realized she wasn't using her arm at all and if we touched or moved it she sobbed anew.  We knew we had to act when she wouldn't lift that arm to take the wrapper off her Dum Dum sucker (desperate measure to cheer her up).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, hand-holding+boneless toddler = nursemaid's elbow.  Poor girl had a pulled elbow.  After about a 40 minute wait, it took them about a minute to fix it.  Within 5 minutes she was totally back to normal, and very happy that her arm felt better.  And I felt like the world's worst mother.  Although, as Pete kindly pointed out, it really was more of a "joint effort."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Har dee har har.&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" tabindex="10" onclick="return false;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2873667789079068185?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2873667789079068185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2873667789079068185' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2873667789079068185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2873667789079068185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-guess-that-makes-me-nursemaid.html' title='I guess that makes me the nursemaid'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-4575606861557485487</id><published>2008-05-08T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T19:51:28.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Irrational Fears</title><content type='html'>My latest:  that for some reason (intruder, fire) I will need to use the escape ladder to get out of an upstairs bedroom with both kids by myself.  How will I manage it?  How would I carry them?  What will I do if one of them starts slipping?  Or both?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just another joyful scenario added to my ongoing fear about what to do if the truck somehow wound up in deep water and I had to get both girls out of their carseats and swim to shore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like I rehearse these scenarios in my head - and always end up inconsolable with fear.  I thought I was through this stuff, but it's come back again lately with force.  Here's hoping it's all part and parcel of the hormones and will go away...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and that I never, ever happen to see &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sophie's Choice&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-4575606861557485487?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/4575606861557485487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=4575606861557485487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4575606861557485487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4575606861557485487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/05/irrational-fears.html' title='Irrational Fears'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8665306054015431788</id><published>2008-05-06T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T15:21:03.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Home Stretch</title><content type='html'>4 weeks, 3 days until my due date.  Please, please, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;please&lt;/span&gt; God, don't let me go over.  I can make it to then - I'm prepared for that.  If I go late, I may go crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In general, I'm doing much better than I did with Kate.  Not sitting in meetings all day definitely helps.  Back pain is almost nonexistant.  Pelvic pain has been sporadic, but is starting to settle in.   The swelling and carpal tunnel have taken off admirably in the last week.  At least this time I know it will go away.  Last time I think I reached the point where I was convinced I would be like that forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April 27th was my last orchestra concert until September.  Ahhhh.  It had gotten really impossible to play.  I'm carrying more out in front this time so trying to get comfortable with this big belly was a losing proposition.  I'm very glad to be done for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have yet to do much of anything on fixing the house.  It was supposed to be my "job" to get bids lined up, but the energy ran out right at the crucial moment.  I really need to lie down during Kate's naps to help the swelling, and by the time she goes to bed, I'm worn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate's room is also taking WAY longer than expected.  We did two colors of pink on her wall (Pete did a beautiful chair rail on the wall).  The bottom pink is perfect, but the top pink wound up too blue.  It was a true challenge to our marriage when I insisted we redo the top part.  But it is done now and the bed is painted and all at no thanks whatsoever to me.  My dear husband has really come through on this.  We should be able to get the bed set up this week and then start moving everything in.  Hopefully the dresser will arrive in the next week or two (over a month late!) and we can get Kate in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate is a doll.  She's excited for her new room, and seemed to figure out all on her own that her baby sister will sleep in her crib, since we certainly never said that.  She keeps talking about her baby sister using her baby room when she moves.  Smart, sweet kid.  She's big into pretending these days, and when she doesn't insist on wearing a dress so she can be a "pretty, pretty princess" (what happened to my tomboy??) she is busy pretending she's a baby wolf or kitty or some other animal.  At this moment, I am mama bird, feeding her a snack as she sits on her "nest" of blankets.  It's just amazing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been busy doing fun things with her the last couple of months.  While I finally believe that this baby will be something for us to experience together and Kate will love her, it does sadden me a bit that it won't just be us anymore.  Lately, she's wanted me to snuggle with her until she falls asleep at nap time.  I know that conventional sleep wisdom says that's a horrible idea, but for me it's this precious time where I can hold her closely and talk and sing and enjoy her with no distraction.  My ability to do that will be greatly reduced if not gone so soon - I'll take every moment I can get.  She's growing up so fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when Kate was born, someone asked Pete and I what our biggest surprises were.  I couldn't really come up with one - I had felt pretty prepared for having an infant.  I think I know what my surprise is, now.  I never understood that as much as parenthood can fill your heart more than you ever thought possible, it also breaks it just a little bit at the same time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8665306054015431788?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8665306054015431788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8665306054015431788' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8665306054015431788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8665306054015431788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/05/home-stretch.html' title='The Home Stretch'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5518071422000915059</id><published>2008-03-17T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T20:16:16.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arizona Highlights</title><content type='html'>Here are a few highlights/pictures from Arizona. The first highlight was visiting Pete's grandparents, who live in Mesa. They are rapidly approaching 90 and in fantastic shape. Pete and I can only hope to be that active (and that happily married) in another 55 years!! Kate had a blast picking oranges, lemons and grapefruit right from the trees, and also got to help her great-grandfather scatter birdseed to feed all the quail and pigeons that practically live in their backyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98t0HSV1wI/AAAAAAAAAB8/Ap8JDlSTGTM/s1600-h/DSC_0026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98t0HSV1wI/AAAAAAAAAB8/Ap8JDlSTGTM/s320/DSC_0026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178908469831784194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98tHnSV1vI/AAAAAAAAAB0/_pogF7bN8E4/s1600-h/DSC_0039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98tHnSV1vI/AAAAAAAAAB0/_pogF7bN8E4/s320/DSC_0039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178907705327605490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate also loved being able to get outside.   We dedicated quite some time in search of a decent playground in Scottsdale, AZ.  It doesn't exist.  Seriously - we are so grateful for all the wonderful playgrounds and parks at home now!!  We didn't realize what a rarity that is!  Still, she managed to find some enjoyment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98ui3SV1xI/AAAAAAAAACE/TOsFpfatfPw/s1600-h/DSC_0129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98ui3SV1xI/AAAAAAAAACE/TOsFpfatfPw/s320/DSC_0129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178909272990668562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98ujHSV1yI/AAAAAAAAACM/U63dxb7PDVE/s1600-h/DSC_0144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98ujHSV1yI/AAAAAAAAACM/U63dxb7PDVE/s320/DSC_0144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178909277285635874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;OK, so she doesn't look to excited in that last picture, but that's more because Mom was making her sit still for a picture.  I just love the shot, though.  (BTW - who is this grown-up "kid" and where did my little baby Katester go??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, no trip to 80+ degree weather would be complete without the obligatory afternoons in the pool.  Kate is a fish and loved being in the water!  When we went in at the start of the week, she had us just drag her around.  By mid-week she progressed to holding onto a "noodle" and having us tow her and by Friday she had figured out how to kick those little legs and wave those arms to sort of doggie paddle around the pool under her own steam (all of this while wearing a life jacket, fyi, so don't go signing her up for the Olympics or anything).  She was just so darn proud of herself it was so much fun to watch!!  Here she is in the "noodle circle" with Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98vrnSV1zI/AAAAAAAAACU/bjRYArEzBDI/s1600-h/DSC_0173.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98vrnSV1zI/AAAAAAAAACU/bjRYArEzBDI/s320/DSC_0173.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178910522826151730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also came on a very easy hike one day.  Pete and my Dad took off and my Mom and I sauntered with Kate for awhile.  Being now in my third trimester, Kate and I are at about the same speed.  We saw lots of flowers and cacti and even a Gila monster!!  Here she is taking in the wildlife with Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98wN3SV10I/AAAAAAAAACc/qm03HOGHVEU/s1600-h/DSC_0158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98wN3SV10I/AAAAAAAAACc/qm03HOGHVEU/s320/DSC_0158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178911111236671298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was a great week.  Kate has already adjusted to the time change, and was thrilled to see snow again.  Wish I could say the same!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5518071422000915059?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5518071422000915059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5518071422000915059' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5518071422000915059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5518071422000915059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/03/arizona-highlights.html' title='Arizona Highlights'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R98t0HSV1wI/AAAAAAAAAB8/Ap8JDlSTGTM/s72-c/DSC_0026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8588398756442331968</id><published>2008-03-16T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T20:48:10.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone too soon</title><content type='html'>Our friend &lt;a href="http://www.legacy.com/StarTribune/Obituaries.asp?Page=LifeStory&amp;amp;PersonId=105795035"&gt;Mitch&lt;/a&gt; died on Friday, after a long battle with cancer.  He and Pete have been friends since high school - when he fought bone cancer.  He managed to stay cancer free until about 5 years ago when he was diagnosed with a GBM (brain tumor).  He tried so hard, but this one beat him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was 34 and left behind two darling children.  He was a wonderful, gentle, funny man and a fantastic father. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will be missed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8588398756442331968?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8588398756442331968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8588398756442331968' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8588398756442331968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8588398756442331968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/03/gone-too-soon.html' title='Gone too soon'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2821391861991596257</id><published>2008-03-16T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T20:36:14.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home again, home again, jiggity jog</title><content type='html'>We're back from a gorgeous week in Arizona.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The week started out a bit rough, as both Pete and I got Kate's cold and arrived feeling pretty lousy.  Mine quickly developed into a sinus infection.  We got lots of sleep and took it easy the first couple days, but still really enjoyed the wonderful sunshine and the new activities for Kate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home yesterday and I'm still recovering from the travel.  Just like with Kate, I've hit the third trimester and suddenly feel like my energy has plummeted.   So off to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post more about the trip and a few pics soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2821391861991596257?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2821391861991596257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2821391861991596257' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2821391861991596257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2821391861991596257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/03/home-again-home-again-jiggity-jog.html' title='Home again, home again, jiggity jog'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1996604788663680448</id><published>2008-03-05T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T13:21:30.622-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cabin Fever</title><content type='html'>Today is day 2 of not leaving the house because Kate is sick.  She's doing much better today - fever is gone and she's left with just the other cold symptoms.  However, she's still just sick enough to be a royal, whining pain.  We're both pretty nutso about not getting out and about the last couple of days, but we're on vacation next week so I really wanted to take it easy and give her every chance of beating this thing before our flight Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're off to AZ to visit my folks.  I'm REALLY looking forward to some nice weather and to getting her outside every day.  She needs it even worse than I do.  It's time for this winter to be OVER!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1996604788663680448?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1996604788663680448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1996604788663680448' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1996604788663680448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1996604788663680448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/03/cabin-fever.html' title='Cabin Fever'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-346091355276112094</id><published>2008-02-27T13:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T13:21:07.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Catch Up</title><content type='html'>Like &lt;a href="http://naturallyoptimistic.blogspot.com"&gt;Carrie&lt;/a&gt;, I have been a bit busy lately, so now I will try to catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, the dreams/anxieties have stopped.  I think I finally worked through them - came up with what was probably a pretty good guess as to what they meant - and since then haven't had another one.  In fact, go ahead and shoot me, because I've been about as happy as it's possible for me to be lately.  I'm enjoying it while it lasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The orchestra concert went of superbly.  I cannot quite believe we pulled off &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ein Heldenleben&lt;/span&gt;, but by all accounts, we did.  Thanks to many last-minute hours of practicing, I probably only had 6 or so measures that I didn't have nailed (but faked quite well, thank you)!  I'll take it - that thing is so beastly hard.  Other than some horrendous rushing by my dear section in the second movement of Schubert's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Unfinished Symphony&lt;/span&gt;, even my nit-picky self can't really complain about the performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Of course, we also had a really fun trip up to see Carrie &amp;amp; Steve and meet their darling Dahlia!!  She is soooo adorable - I just wanted to squish her!  Of course, she's still too much of a peanut for too much squishing, but she has the bluest eyes and the cutest little button nose you ever did see.  It was so fun to hold a wee one again!  It was also neat to see Kate worry about her when she'd whimper and bring toys over to her, etc.  A fun preview for our lives in a few months.  It was great to catch up with Carrie, and it's always nice to have more chances to get to know Steve.  All in all, a very fun day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I noticed that Carrie outed me today - yes, it's true.  I am now a knitter.  I took a class in September hoping to have the blanket done by her shower in November.  Sadly, I got about half done and then morning sickness struck and since that's gotten better I have issues with my hands swelling and going numb, so the blanket is not yet done.  I can't wait to not be pregnant anymore so I can get back at it.  I love to knit.  It's wonderful to have something to do while watching TV or a movie that is actually &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;productive&lt;/span&gt; (instead of my usual cryptogram/sudoku/karkuro habit).  It's also tremendously relaxing.  So if you feel like talking knitting, I'm in!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of other stuff has happened, but I think this post is long enough for now.  Off to do something productive while Kate naps.  (After MONTHS of not napping at all, she has been taking 2+ hour naps nearly every day the last couple of weeks.  Not convinced it will last, but I'm loving every minute of it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a happy, sunny day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-346091355276112094?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/346091355276112094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=346091355276112094' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/346091355276112094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/346091355276112094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/02/catch-up.html' title='Catch Up'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8983059576864409048</id><published>2008-02-06T18:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T18:30:51.862-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilty little pleasure</title><content type='html'>I have a confession.  Whenever I'm needing a bit of a pick-me-up, I go out and watch the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sxOytYLlhiQ"&gt;Paul Potts Britian's Got Talent audition&lt;/a&gt; on YouTube.  I could watch it over and over just to well up and get that tight I-can't-quite-breathe feeling in my chest.  Somehow that makes other things seem better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another freak out night last night.  I'm so tired of having these irrational fears creep up on me at night.  I'm sick of having horrible nightmares.  I think I've had a dream where Kate is drowning in one fashion or another probably every other night for the last few weeks.  I sort of feel like I'm losing my mind.  Pete seems to recall me having these kinds of anxiety dreams when I was pregnant with Kate, too, but they were about things happening to him.   I just want them to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I guess I'll keep YouTube on my favorites list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8983059576864409048?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8983059576864409048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8983059576864409048' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8983059576864409048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8983059576864409048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/02/guilty-little-pleasure.html' title='Guilty little pleasure'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-828301314983104583</id><published>2008-02-04T08:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T08:30:04.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow &amp; Sweatpants Day</title><content type='html'>Since my cold is hanging on, we had to skip playgroup this morning.  It's snowing outside, we have food enough, and I was so busy this weekend that I sort of miss Kate, so I've declared today Sweatpants Day and we're just going to hole in and be together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've already spent more one-on-one time actually playing with her today than I have in over a week.  I'm going to get the laundry done and make some calls and in general enjoy not doing my hair or putting on makeup and just spend some time with my girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another one of those moments that makes me so incredibly grateful to stay home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-828301314983104583?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/828301314983104583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=828301314983104583' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/828301314983104583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/828301314983104583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/02/snow-sweatpants-day.html' title='Snow &amp; Sweatpants Day'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2477339885127343664</id><published>2008-02-01T18:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T18:13:37.918-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strauss the Sadist</title><content type='html'>Or at least Strauss the cellist-hater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy cow, is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ein Heldenleben&lt;/span&gt; hard.  I will admit that it's coming along for me personally better than I thought it would when I first read the part, but it's still unbelievably demanding.  I mean, what was he thinking having cellists shift all over the nosebleed section to double the firsts in unison???  Intervals that are a small extension for a violin are an 8-inch shift for us, and we have to do it in a nanosecond.  Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My biggest saving grace is that Strauss is still Strauss.  Having played &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Death and Transfiguration&lt;/span&gt; both in college and again in BSO a few years ago, a lot of this is a bit easier to figure out.  In fact, the main themes from D&amp;amp;T come back at the end of EH - so at least I knew that part!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest challenge is just the shear physical athleticism required to get through it.  There are so few breaks in playing, and the playing is so aggressive, that it's exhausting.  Especially when I'm still trying to adjust to my growing belly.  I actually have a "cello workout schedule" just to prepare for having to play the whole thing front to back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope my section is preparing that much, too.  It was pretty clear in our sectional last week that there's still a long way to go, plus most of them still didn't have the bowings in their parts (ARGH).  But I can't make them practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all my griping, though, I must admit it's really fun to play.  It's great to be this challenged in a community orchestra.  While I think this is a bit too much of a stretch for us, it's certainly better than doing things that we can read cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a funny cello note - I had a dream this week that I was auditioning for the Minnesota Orchestra.  That I had forgotten all about the audition and was there and desperately trying to figure out which concerto I had in the best shape for the audition.  That wasn't fun - I haven't had a dream like that in a long time.  I guess I'm STILL not practicing enough!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2477339885127343664?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2477339885127343664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2477339885127343664' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2477339885127343664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2477339885127343664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/02/strauss-sadist.html' title='Strauss the Sadist'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-3454530317180748883</id><published>2008-02-01T16:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T16:09:57.277-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whining</title><content type='html'>I was lucky with Kate - I was pregnant March-December 1st.  Since I avoided the heart of the cold &amp;amp; flu season I never got sick when I was pregnant with her.  Not so this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a horrible cold and can't take anything for it.  I'm a total wimp with colds and dose myself regularly with anything and everything to help prevent a sinus infection (to which I am prone).  I'm going crazy doing this "drug free"!   Pete is sick, too.   The first time in the 10 years we've been together that we have a cold at the same time.  Definitely a sign that we've been running ourselves a bit ragged lately.  The only good news is that Kate so far shows no signs of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest bummer is that this weekend I was going to go meet &lt;a href="http://naturallyoptimistic.blogspot.com"&gt;Carrie's&lt;/a&gt; Miss Dahlia, which will now need to be postponed.  :-(  I'm dying to see them both and to hold a little baby again!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you are all healthy and well!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-3454530317180748883?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/3454530317180748883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=3454530317180748883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3454530317180748883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3454530317180748883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/02/whining.html' title='Whining'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-853193493218218972</id><published>2008-01-29T20:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T20:24:06.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BHOAT</title><content type='html'>Best Husband of All Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have him, in case you were wondering.   Lately I find myself so incredibly grateful for my husband.  Pete's never been a 'bring home flowers for no reason' kind of guy, yet he does a million little things for me every day that make my life easier.  He can be so very considerate (and sometimes so not considerate in other ways, it's interesting).  Lately I can only see the positive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think being pregnant really makes me appreciate having such a great partner, and I am so lucky to have him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can all go throw up now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-853193493218218972?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/853193493218218972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=853193493218218972' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/853193493218218972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/853193493218218972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/bhoat.html' title='BHOAT'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8915675677575830429</id><published>2008-01-29T11:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T11:41:28.877-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wiped Out</title><content type='html'>I'm officially exhausted today.  Sunday was crazy busy as I: did laundry, rehearsed with my sis-in-law and niece (we played as 2 vln/cello trio at the funeral yesterday), did my own practicing on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ein Heldenleben&lt;/span&gt; (damn you, Strauss) and for the funeral (did a solo, too), prepared for cello sectionals on Sunday night, prepared clothes for the funeral, washed &amp;amp; filled the truck, went to rehearsal.... etc. etc.  Up way too late, and then up bright and early yesterday to get down to New Ulm by 9AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funeral was nice.  They really kept things moving, which I appreciated.  I had mixed emotions about playing at the service.  I know it made my mom happy, so I never would have refused, but it really complicated an already busy time, and frankly would have rather been able to just sit through the service with my family rather than jump up and down do play.  I was doing really well through the service emotionally.  I had an inner monologue along the lines of, "It's just another gig.  You don't know these people."  So I held it together and the playing went well, and I finished my solo and completely lost it.   Kind of surprised me, actually. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was again up way too late, but just for psycho pregnant-woman reasons.  Every now and again since I've been pregnant I just get these emotional jags where I am overwhelmed with worry about Kate.   All I can do is think about how much I love her and am just crippled with this terror that something might happen to her and that I don't know if I could survive that and how on earth will I be able to function when there is a second little being that I love this much??  Fun, huh?  It only happens when Kate is sleeping, and it's always gone when I wake up in the morning.  I'm very much hoping this goes away when this baby comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I am pooped.  Pete's sister is coming over for dinner and I'm moving in sloooow motion (thank god for crock pot recipes).  I have a to-do list as long as my arm, but I think I'm just going to let most of it go until tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An interesting preview to what my sleep-deprived life with a newborn will be like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, my darling girl just pulled up a chair next to me and proclaimed, "I'm so CUTE, Mama!"  Hmmm, think she hears that too often?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8915675677575830429?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8915675677575830429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8915675677575830429' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8915675677575830429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8915675677575830429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/wiped-out.html' title='Wiped Out'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-3685205978025702370</id><published>2008-01-26T06:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T06:21:17.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Settlement</title><content type='html'>In an unexpected development, the mediation did go forward yesterday.  At the start of the day, the builder's insurer still didn't have authority to give us any money, but apparently the mediator worked with her and the attorneys for the other parties and managed to get that resolved.  (Bonus: we got to be involved over the phone and didn't have to spend our day in the mediator's office, as expected) We're still waiting for an agreement etched in gold, but we're very close.  The mediator thinks he can get us a few thousand more so he's going to take through Monday to see what can be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who have no idea what the heck I'm talking about, a quick recap.  Last May we decided to have our 1998-built stucco home tested for moisture intrusion.  We'd read all the newspaper articles about homes from that era (particularly stucco) degrading internally from wet-rot, we saw a few neighbors have issues, and we knew we were coming up on the end of our 10-year builder's warranty, so we wanted to have it checked.  Correction:  Pete wanted to have it checked.  I was too cheap to spend the $415.  We did it (thank God).  We have significant problems.  Attorney hired, suit filed, yadda yadda yadda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are.   While we're not ecstatic about the numbers we're talking in this mediation, we are satisfied, and we're looking forward to getting this darn thing over with.  We're sick of attorney fees and I'm hopeful to get this work done pre-newborn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping the final details work out and we can just move on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-3685205978025702370?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/3685205978025702370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=3685205978025702370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3685205978025702370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3685205978025702370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/settlement.html' title='Settlement'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2927423942776002702</id><published>2008-01-24T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T14:12:41.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustration!</title><content type='html'>ARGH.  Attorneys suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our mediation on our house tomorrow will likely be canceled.  Apparently, the attorney for our builder has yet to receive any authority to negotiate from the builder's insurance company.  Without that, we can't have any productive discussions tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This pisses me off to no end.  We've been dealing with this for 8 months.  We've spent close to $10k already on attorney fees.  I want to get this house fixed before I have a newborn in it.  We just want the damn thing over with and the builder/insurer have been a total pain in the a$$ since day one.  We'd just say screw this mediation thing, but a trial will likely cost us $30-50k in and of itself, so that's really a very last resort.  I'm just so damn frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one bright point in my day - thank GOD - is that Kate is taking her first nap in 4 weeks.  At least I have some down time to deal with all the crappy stuff in this day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2927423942776002702?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2927423942776002702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2927423942776002702' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2927423942776002702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2927423942776002702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/frustration.html' title='Frustration!'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-7013163005604215820</id><published>2008-01-24T13:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T13:53:22.494-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Gone</title><content type='html'>My grandma died today.  I'm so relieved for her - she's had essentially no quality of life for a very long time.  She couldn't communicate at all.  She had no dignity.  I'm glad her suffering is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sad, though, that my mother wasn't there.  She's been loathe to leave her side for days.  Apparently, she had just left the hospital when her father died, and she's always regretted it.  She's been very clear she wanted to be there when grandma passed.  Today she had - of all silly things - a hair appointment and wanted very much to cancel it, but my Aunt Nita was convincing her she should just go and get it done. (Kate and I spent about an hour there this morning and heard the conversations)  So my mom went ahead and left - just for an hour - and apparently shortly after she left, grandma died.  I know that will break her heart, so it's breaking mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-7013163005604215820?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/7013163005604215820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=7013163005604215820' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7013163005604215820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7013163005604215820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/shes-gone.html' title='She&apos;s Gone'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5635830811389923702</id><published>2008-01-23T18:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T18:40:53.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Valuable Lesson (or, I am an Idiot)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;This morning I was in a huge hurry - getting ready for our cleaning service to come and trying to get out of the house to meet our friends at 9:30.  I had a few dishes from last night that sadly just didn't get hand washed, so in a flurry this morning, I stuck them in the oven to get them out of the way for the cleaning gal.  (The second time ever in my life I have done this).  Then I went on with my day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Tonight, distracted by a screaming toddler, I turned on the oven to preheat for dinner, totally foregetting about my little stash trick.  Thankfully, Pete called 10 minutes later and as I got up to get the phone I noticed large orange flames through the window of the oven.  ONe of the dishes was a plastic bowl, which had caught fire at a fairly low temperature.  I grabbed a fire extinguisher, and within a minute the flames were out and our kitchen and family room were full of noxious odor, smoke, and fire extinguisher chemicals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I am sharing this very embarrassing story for two reasons.  First of all, I'm sure you are all too smart and too organized to use the oven for anything other than its created purpose.  If, however, you ever find yourself tempted to use it as storage - THINK AGAIN!  Secondly, and most importantly, if you don't have convenient fire extinguishers in your house, I beg you to get them.  We were lucky - this wound up being just an inconvenience.  We're out a bowl, we'll have to replace the fire extinguisher, I had to clean soot off everything in my freshly cleaned house, and Kate learned a couple of not-so-appropriate words.  However, if we'd not had that fire extinguisher, it would have been much worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Before moving into this house, I never had a fire extinguisher.  Now we have a couple on the main floor and based on this are going to add them downstairs and upstairs.  Hopefully you'll never have a moment of idiocy like mine that would require it, but if you do, you will be so grateful you had this small, effective tool available.  I sure am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5635830811389923702?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5635830811389923702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5635830811389923702' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5635830811389923702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5635830811389923702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/valuable-lesson-or-i-am-idiot.html' title='A Valuable Lesson (or, I am an Idiot)'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-6229272823327863556</id><published>2008-01-21T20:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T20:38:27.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh</title><content type='html'>My first sewing project is floor pillows for my downstairs.  I have an extra set of drapes from down there (long story) that I've taken apart, so I have a ton of free fabric to learn with.  I spent probably about two hours on it tonight and I got one - that's right, ONE - 27" pillow cut out.  It is remarkably hard to cut fabric.  Well, at least to cut it straight, with the grain, in right angles.  At this rate it's going to take me a YEAR just to do these darn pillows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents flew home from AZ yesterday.  My Grandma is in really bad shape.  She's stopped eating or drinking anything now and is totally unresponsive.  My mom is arranging for hospice care to come in and make her comfortable, but the general assumption is that she won't last much longer.  Thankfully, her sister flew in and is helping her with all this stuff (her brothers are useless).  It's hard to watch my Mom go through this, and harder still to even conceive of having to make such decisions myself someday.  Makes me glad that Kate will at least have a sister to help her when we're the ones in the nursing home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...ugh.  That's pretty much all I have to say about today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-6229272823327863556?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/6229272823327863556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=6229272823327863556' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6229272823327863556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/6229272823327863556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/ugh.html' title='Ugh'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8161798650211447678</id><published>2008-01-19T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T20:22:10.158-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Does Elmo make YOU cry?</title><content type='html'>We took Kate to Sesame Street Live this morning - it was a blast!  She wasn't really dancing or clapping - she's not really that kind of kid - but she was enthralled.  She seemed to enjoy the show, and she definitely liked the popcorn and the giant Elmo-head balloon we got her as a souvenir.  I was a bit worried if she would like it since she's really not very interested in Sesame Street anymore, but she didn't stop talking about it all day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show started and I looked at Kate's delighted face and Pete and I were snuggling her and I totally teared up.  I was just so overwhelmed by how lucky we are to have her and how much I love her and Pete and the baby and - ahhh!  Please tell me I can chalk up "welling up with emotion at Sesame Street Live" to pregnancy hormones!  Otherwise, I have completely flipped out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8161798650211447678?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8161798650211447678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8161798650211447678' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8161798650211447678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8161798650211447678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/does-elmo-make-you-cry.html' title='Does Elmo make YOU cry?'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-4863626577149615200</id><published>2008-01-15T19:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T19:32:26.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2008: The Year I Learn to Sew</title><content type='html'>2008 is a year of many things for me.   First of all, it's The Year We Fix the House. We'll be redoing the exterior of our house (thanks to faulty stucco wet rot - more to come on that later).   That will be an enormous and expensive project - I can't even really comprehend how huge it's going to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, it's also The Year of the Second Baby.  So, in other words, all other "Year Of" goals better be accomplished by early June, because once the little one makes her appearance, all bets are off for me getting anything else done for the rest of the year.  My only goals beyond that point will be to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sleep&lt;/span&gt; and to take off that baby weight faster than last time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also decided it's The Year I Learn to Sew.  I've had a sewing machine for years.  When we bought this house my mom helped me sew some pillows for our family room, which turned out great.  Since then, though, with the sole exception of mending a torn painting tarp, the machine has been stashed away.  I couldn't tell you how to wind a bobbin right now if my life depended on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This, in itself, would be no real issue, if it wasn't for the undue influence of my mother.  You see, anytime I've decorated a room or had something sewn for me, my mother somehow manages to convince me to buy extra fabric for pillows, accents, etc.  She convinces me it's so much cheaper to do it myself (which is true) and that she'll come up for a couple days and help me (which is NOT true).  So I have a LOT of fabric that I'm tired of looking at, and the time has come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be able to figure this out, right?  I mean, I'm a reasonably smart person.  I used to manage dozens of people and projects costing tens of millions of dollars.  Why does that little white machine intimidate me so much?  It's crazy.  So today we went to JoAnn fabric and I got some supplies to get me started on my upcoming sewing binge.  First up: floor pillows for downstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-4863626577149615200?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/4863626577149615200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=4863626577149615200' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4863626577149615200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4863626577149615200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/2008-year-i-learn-to-sew.html' title='2008: The Year I Learn to Sew'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2798822780878093030</id><published>2008-01-10T11:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T11:32:28.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Girl Bed</title><content type='html'>I've been having a ball lately finally getting moving on preparing a "big girl bedroom" for Kate.  We went back and forth a lot about whether to move Kate or just move the crib into a different room and decorate that room for the baby.  However, we knew we weren't going to buy another glider, and decided that since that room was designed for a baby - and we've had a few instances of Kate climbing out of her crib - the time had come to move her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some old twin beds my mom got at an auction years ago, which she gave to me when they moved up from Austin.   I'm going to paint one white and get a white dresser.  I'm being a total lemming and doing Pottery Barn Kids (Audry) bedding for her, but I just can't help myself - it's so darn cute!!  So much of the really kids-y stuff is so cheaply made, and thankfully Kate's not yet into Dora or Princesses to the point where she has an opinion, so I can still make the decision.  At least the PBK stuff is nicely made and adorable.  I think we will go pink on the walls.  It's so much fun!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just need to get rid of my old bedroom set that's still taking up space in Kate's soon-to-be room.  It's such a pretty set (many of you may remember it from my room in Austin), but it's a full bed and our rooms just aren't big enough for that.  The bed and dresser fit, but then there's no room for anything else, and I really like the idea of her having some play space in her room, so she can entertain herself while I'm in the shower, etc.  So, if you know anyone in the market, let me know.  My sister may take it - it was actually hers first - but if not it'll have to go on craigslist.  Makes me kind of sad, but as I get older I am far less attached to "things" and much more appreciative of getting stuff we don't want/need out of the house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels sort of strange to be really making strides on this, now.  I guess we're accepting that there's most likely going to be another teeny tiny person around here in a few months!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2798822780878093030?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2798822780878093030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2798822780878093030' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2798822780878093030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2798822780878093030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/big-girl-bed.html' title='Big Girl Bed'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-4258146559328688422</id><published>2008-01-08T17:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T18:12:57.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'>But for the grace of God</title><content type='html'>There was another story in the paper today about some college kid dying of alcohol poisoning, after a night of partying.  "They drink a lot all the time," their friends say.  "They didn't even seem &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; drunk."  It seems there's a story like this every week lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I so clearly remember being one of those kids.  Most of you who read this blog were right there with me - often literally by my side.  While we were pretty good at looking out for each other, we pushed those limits so very far so often.   We were damn lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read these stories and it's not the kids I identify with anymore - my heart breaks for those parents.  Never once did I realize how much I was gambling with something so precious to my parents.  You just don't get it until you're on the other side.  And I hope and pray my girls are more wise, more careful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or at least just as damn lucky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-4258146559328688422?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/4258146559328688422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=4258146559328688422' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4258146559328688422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4258146559328688422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/but-for-grace-of-god.html' title='But for the grace of God'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1782651586905267060</id><published>2008-01-05T05:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-05T05:47:28.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guitar Hero</title><content type='html'>Well, I think I finally have all the holiday decorations put away and the house back to normal.  Whew.  I've never seen a tree drop so many needles - 45 minutes of vacuuming, and I'm sure there are still some hiding in there somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Pete and I took a whirl with his Christmas present from Kate and me - Guitar Hero for our XBOX360.  It was pretty fun!  It's kind of nice to have an XBOX game where I can hold my own with him, at least.  We have played Halo together, but he's so much better than me that I'm mostly just along for the ride.   I'm not at all interested in even trying the driving/racing games.  I've crashed enough cars in real life so that even crashing an animated one is a bit stressful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part about it is that it's something Pete and I can do together.  We've been married for 6 1/2 years now, and it's just too easy for us to spend all our evenings totally engaged in our own things and not really interacting.  While I think some level of that is healthy, we should probably be more attentive to spending time together.  We've had too many friends divorce in the past few years to take anything for granted (not that I'm at ALL worried about that for us, mind you).  So, anyway, it was fun to spend time together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say, even holding a pretend guitar with 5 buttons is really uncomfortable to a cellist.  The hand angle is all off - I cannot get it to feel natural - and sadly, the game has features that would prevent me from just holding the guitar like a cello.  My hand is actually &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sore&lt;/span&gt; today (I can relate to &lt;a href="http://tiredmom-journeytotri.blogspot.com/2007/12/day-7-wii-are-having-fun.html"&gt;Meigan's Wii induced "tennis elbow"&lt;/a&gt;).  Not so good, since I'm still procrastinating tackling the behemoth that is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ein Heldenleben.&lt;/span&gt;  Now I just need to make sure I'm not spending my time "practicing" guitar, when I should be really practicing!  I have to get my cello-playing in while I can still reach around my belly!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1782651586905267060?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1782651586905267060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1782651586905267060' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1782651586905267060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1782651586905267060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/guitar-hero.html' title='Guitar Hero'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-5180310216249088710</id><published>2008-01-02T18:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T18:07:47.977-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mmm, those fingers are tasty...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R3xDb3F6ktI/AAAAAAAAABk/kW7MQ_fKCcA/s1600-h/MAISER_3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R3xDb3F6ktI/AAAAAAAAABk/kW7MQ_fKCcA/s320/MAISER_3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151066219729294034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R3xDLnF6ksI/AAAAAAAAABc/48T6dp7fxsQ/s1600-h/MAISER_3.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-5180310216249088710?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/5180310216249088710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=5180310216249088710' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5180310216249088710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/5180310216249088710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/mmm-those-fingers-are-tasty.html' title='Mmm, those fingers are tasty...'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/R3xDb3F6ktI/AAAAAAAAABk/kW7MQ_fKCcA/s72-c/MAISER_3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-3585173141871505873</id><published>2008-01-02T12:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T13:09:04.717-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An audible sigh of relief</title><content type='html'>Little One passed the ultrasound with flying colors.  Every single thing they looked at - normal.  Not a single question, concern, soft marker, anything.  Even the perinatologist flat out said we didn't need an amnio.  I still have a low-lying placenta (no longer covering the cervix, but still really darn close) but he also said he would be surprised if it didn't continue to move out of the way.  All in all, it was a wonderful relief to know that the early measurement was an anomaly and we have what seems to be a healthy baby on the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're both pretty gosh darn excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the gender, I must admit we caved.  We decided to be practical regarding planning and names, and because I have sometimes thought it perhaps slowed my bonding with Kate, because I was so sure she was going to be a boy it took my awhile to accept she was a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll have to see how I feel after delivery and all, but right now I'm glad I know.  I really like knowing and I swear I feel even more attached to the Little One than I did this morning.  Of course, that could be in part because I finally believe this baby is really coming.  She is really coming.  And we all can't wait to meet her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-3585173141871505873?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/3585173141871505873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=3585173141871505873' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3585173141871505873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/3585173141871505873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/audible-sigh-of-relief.html' title='An audible sigh of relief'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8521423369188811698</id><published>2008-01-01T06:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T07:03:33.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oops</title><content type='html'>Most mornings (when she doesn't want oatmeal or demand goldfish or the like), I give Kate a small bowl of cereal and small cups of OJ and milk.  She likes to pour the milk on her cereal herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I noticed a weird look on her still sleepy face - as she ate a big spoonful of Wheat Chex swimming in orange juice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8521423369188811698?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8521423369188811698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8521423369188811698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8521423369188811698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8521423369188811698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/oops.html' title='Oops'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-749966850322527027</id><published>2008-01-01T06:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T06:54:58.854-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To see or not to see</title><content type='html'>We have our level II ultrasound tomorrow.  First of all, we are really hoping we find out we have a healthy little monkey in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 6 weeks ago, we did a "First Trimester Screen" based on advice from by OB.  Since I'm now the ripe old age of 35, there seems to be a general fear in the medical community that I will give birth to a two-headed goat or something, so they want to test anything and everything they can get their hands on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The First Trimester Screen looks at an ultrasound measurement called the Nuchal Translucency and then also assesses some bloodwork to determine your overall risk for Down's Syndrome and Trisomies 13 and 18.  I won't to into the whole traumatic ordeal we went through there.  The highlights were this - the ultrasound showed a "borderline" measurement - meaning it was on the big side which indicates a problem (either the above-mentioned or a cardiac defect).  Thankfully, the blood work was so good it negated the trisomy risk and my overall screen came back "normal risk".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I feel strongly this baby is healthy, because of that experience it seems less of a given than it did with Kate, so I have to say outright - most importantly, we hope it is healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's not what this post is about. This post is about a far more trivial matter: should we find out the gender?  We wanted to and planned to with Kate, but she was modest, and we wound up kind of enjoying the unknown.  So we're trying to decide if we want to know now (for planning, names, etc.) or if we want to wait it out again.  If we do find out, we're trying to decide if we're going to tell other people or at least try to keep it to ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll just have to see what mood takes me at the appointment tomorrow.   I almost wish I felt strongly about it one way or the other, because it would just be easier.  Or maybe I am focusing on this one, relatively unimportant detail because it keeps me from worrying about finding a two or three chambered heart or something else that would be incompatible with life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, I look forward to getting this over with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-749966850322527027?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/749966850322527027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=749966850322527027' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/749966850322527027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/749966850322527027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2008/01/to-see-or-not-to-see.html' title='To see or not to see'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-283654918600540862</id><published>2007-12-30T07:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T07:42:55.084-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Speaking of getting kicks...</title><content type='html'>The wriggling has started.   Definitely the BEST part of being pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the whole pregnancy thing, I am finally feeling outright GOOD most of the time, and am enjoying life.  Hopefully now I can try, yet again, to update this place more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-283654918600540862?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/283654918600540862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=283654918600540862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/283654918600540862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/283654918600540862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2007/12/speaking-of-getting-kicks.html' title='Speaking of getting kicks...'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-4537922364651816215</id><published>2007-12-30T07:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T07:40:55.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Know what's fun?</title><content type='html'>Bringing a bottle of fancy root beer to a neighborhood party - the kind in the plain brown bottle - and standing around with the bottle resting on your increasingly large pregnant belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, did I get some looks.   And even a few questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, it's almost insulting.  Yeah, I'm going to drink when I'm pregnant - AND in front of a bunch of people.   Thanks for your high opinion of my intelligence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe next time I'll bring a bottle of sparkling fruit juice and just chug it from the bottle in a brown paper bag.   Gotta get my kicks somehow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-4537922364651816215?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/4537922364651816215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=4537922364651816215' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4537922364651816215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/4537922364651816215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2007/12/know-whats-fun.html' title='Know what&apos;s fun?'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-8752222463911922996</id><published>2007-12-17T18:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T18:43:47.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maiser Look-alike Meter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.myheritage.com/meter" title="Click to get your own Look-alike Meter" alt="Click to get your own Look-alike Meter" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://storage.myheritagefiles.com/J/storage/site1/files/38/82/82/388282_585058f233767452nw1m53.JPG" border="0" height="470" width="435" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myheritage.com/"&gt;MyHeritage&lt;/a&gt;: &lt;a href="http://www.myheritage.com/FP/Company/celebrity-collage.php"&gt;Celebrity Collage&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;a href="http://www.myheritage.com/"&gt;Geneology &lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="visibility: hidden; width: 0px; height: 0px;" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/CIMP/JnB*PTExOTc5NDU2ODc3MzQmcD*xMTA1NzEmZD*mbj1ibG9nZ2Vy.jpg" border="0" height="0" width="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this on &lt;a href="http://futurepoltergeist.blogspot.com"&gt;Peder's blog&lt;/a&gt; and couldn't resist trying it, especially since I'm always told how much she looks like Pete.  Well, it seems she looks more like me that I get credit for!! :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-8752222463911922996?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/8752222463911922996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=8752222463911922996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8752222463911922996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/8752222463911922996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2007/12/maiser-look-alike-meter.html' title='Maiser Look-alike Meter'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-74436584717591125</id><published>2007-11-05T17:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T17:46:24.355-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Day</title><content type='html'>This was actually my second good day in a row.  I'm eating pretty normally (in fact, starting to get an impressive appetite) and had very little nausea.  That's especially welcome because I was up a bit late last night after orchestra and usually it's worse if I don't get enough sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, now I'll worry that I'm feeling &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;too&lt;/span&gt; good.  Disappearing symptoms can be a bad thing this early on.  So here's hoping that I still feel a teeny bit bad.  Of course, I'm feeling better but still taking some of the medication my doctor prescribed, so I suppose if I want to feel sick again I could try not taking that tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's very good I'm feeling better because I have a LOT to do to get ready for &lt;a href="http://naturallyoptimistic.blogspot.com"&gt;Carrie's&lt;/a&gt; baby shower this weekend!  I'm really looking forward to it, and while I've done lots of planning I've done little execution so I've got to hustle this week!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-74436584717591125?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/74436584717591125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=74436584717591125' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/74436584717591125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/74436584717591125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2007/11/good-day.html' title='A Good Day'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-7354806629563070174</id><published>2007-10-25T19:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T17:50:29.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Puking Sucks</title><content type='html'>We were all signed up to do in vitro again in December, to try for a little sibling for Kate.  I was at the point where I was just waiting for my next cycle so I could start the pill in preparation for IVF, and -knock me over with a feather - it never came.   I am 8 1/2 weeks pregnant - "the old fashioned way" - and sick as the proverbial dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had virtually no morning sickness with Kate.  I felt a bit queasy on occasion, like a mild hangover, which I usually addressed by eating lots of greasy, salty calories.  Ha.  Now I can barely choke down dry toast.  It's really quite miserable, and I don't know how I'm going to make another month or more of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So forgive me if I'm not bouncing off the walls with this miracle of miracles.  I promise I'll start beaming again someday, when I get my head out of the toilet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-7354806629563070174?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/7354806629563070174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=7354806629563070174' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7354806629563070174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/7354806629563070174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2007/10/puking-sucks.html' title='Puking Sucks'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-2426309112549562061</id><published>2007-10-19T16:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T16:39:20.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too sick to post</title><content type='html'>A huge drawback of being a SAHM is having to take care of a rambunctious 22-month old when you fell like hell.  Thank GOD for TiVo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is day 4 of feeling like complete and total crap.  Hoping to be back posting again soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-2426309112549562061?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/2426309112549562061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=2426309112549562061' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2426309112549562061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/2426309112549562061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2007/10/too-sick-to-post.html' title='Too sick to post'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2717129443088621070.post-1582506433956269045</id><published>2007-10-12T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T18:37:16.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apple Picking</title><content type='html'>On a cheerier note - some pics of our picks last weekend.  80-something degrees while apple picking is just plain wrong, by the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhF6vLNxI/AAAAAAAAAA0/oeRk-03cn_k/s1600-h/q010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhF6vLNxI/AAAAAAAAAA0/oeRk-03cn_k/s200/q010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120629161870440210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhGKvLNyI/AAAAAAAAAA8/d2MuuVzioh8/s1600-h/q014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhGKvLNyI/AAAAAAAAAA8/d2MuuVzioh8/s200/q014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120629166165407522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhGqvLNzI/AAAAAAAAABE/0qkqn18y8-c/s1600-h/q021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhGqvLNzI/AAAAAAAAABE/0qkqn18y8-c/s200/q021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120629174755342130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhG6vLN0I/AAAAAAAAABM/4xJBgLDo95s/s1600-h/q022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhG6vLN0I/AAAAAAAAABM/4xJBgLDo95s/s200/q022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120629179050309442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhHKvLN1I/AAAAAAAAABU/upytbX8jdlY/s1600-h/q023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhHKvLN1I/AAAAAAAAABU/upytbX8jdlY/s200/q023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120629183345276754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2717129443088621070-1582506433956269045?l=cellomama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/feeds/1582506433956269045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2717129443088621070&amp;postID=1582506433956269045' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1582506433956269045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2717129443088621070/posts/default/1582506433956269045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cellomama.blogspot.com/2007/10/apple-picking.html' title='Apple Picking'/><author><name>Cellomama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01324155073073873706</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_41C6dL1bO8A/RxAhF6vLNxI/AAAAAAAAAA0/oeRk-03cn_k/s72-c/q010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
