<?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-22617969</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:49:06.169-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life with Mimi</title><subtitle type='html'>Beacause somebody has to write this down!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-116189568161390551</id><published>2006-10-26T13:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T13:48:01.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maya's Mom is Live!!</title><content type='html'>After all these months of hard work by the Maya's Mom team (of which I was once a part), &lt;a href="http://www.mayasmom.com"&gt;Maya's Mom&lt;/a&gt; is now live at last!  &lt;br /&gt;We hope it will be a place for parents to connect, share, help one another, exchange ideas and advice and provide fun things to do with their kids.  Check it out and register to get the full experience.  Once inside, you can surf around to see what's there - if you have any questions, please let the group know by clicking on the feedback button on each page. &lt;br /&gt;I hope you enjoy it, it's been so much fun to be a part of it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-116189568161390551?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/116189568161390551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=116189568161390551' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/116189568161390551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/116189568161390551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/10/mayas-mom-is-live.html' title='Maya&apos;s Mom is Live!!'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-116042622130119853</id><published>2006-10-09T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-09T13:37:18.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Domino's new friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2841.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2841.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Domino is getting to know some of the locals, good thing they're friendly!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-116042622130119853?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/116042622130119853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=116042622130119853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/116042622130119853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/116042622130119853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/10/dominos-new-friends.html' title='Domino&apos;s new friends'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115864243459289249</id><published>2006-09-18T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T23:20:21.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fire up the pit, it's a camp out!</title><content type='html'>Let's be sensible and camp at home dang it!  That's what we said a couple of weekends ago and I'm so glad we did.  We had so much fun setting up our big tent in the back yard, filling it with fluffy pillows, mats and blankets and making a cozy little outdoor home.  Of course, you can't go camping without roasting shmellows!!  So we stopped at Tar-jay during the day and picked up a fire pit (and of course a coupla Halloween tshirts for the kids and pumpkin boxers for the S.O. and a &lt;a href="http://www.target.com/gp/detail.html/sr=1-2/qid=1158176023/ref=sr_1_2/601-5574487-8478500?%5Fencoding=UTF8&amp;asin=B000F8F82M"&gt;fab bag&lt;/a&gt; for me) so we could burn down the house (and I do mean that literally, we had leftover wood from the remodel).  What fun!  Can I tell you how much I love a good fire?  And in my back yard?  Stop it!  We had such a nice time,  just the fam,  hanging and roasting until we were all tired and yawny (not to be confused with the cheesy musician).&lt;br /&gt;An-nee-way, the best part of it was, any time we needed something - like say, a clean toilet - we just popped into the house for it.  Ha!  And when it came time to put Miles to bed - noooo problemo, just popped him into his crip upstairs and turned on the monitor.  So everyone got to sleep through the night . . . well &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;would&lt;/span&gt; have slept through the night if mommy and pappi hadn't had those frothy beverages that induce urination at all the wrong hours of the night.  But did I have to sneak off to find some scary looking bush to pee behind??  Nope, just popped into the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;warm&lt;/span&gt; house.  Ha!  Backyard camping rules.  period.&lt;br /&gt;And the next day?  The most delicious nap in that tent . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115864243459289249?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115864243459289249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115864243459289249' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115864243459289249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115864243459289249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/09/fire-up-pit-its-camp-out.html' title='Fire up the pit, it&apos;s a camp out!'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115748692490646116</id><published>2006-09-05T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T13:08:46.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Big-sister-love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2792.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/400/IMG_2792.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2787.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/400/IMG_2787.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2788.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/400/IMG_2788.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miles just loves his big sis, he lights up whenever she walks in the room - total puppy l.o.v.e.  The other night we snappy a few of them cuddling in the kitchen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115748692490646116?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115748692490646116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115748692490646116' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115748692490646116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115748692490646116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/09/big-sister-love.html' title='Big-sister-love'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115713180284786055</id><published>2006-09-01T10:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T10:30:02.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First day of school . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2798.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/400/IMG_2798.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awwww, Emma is off to another new school year . . . can't believe she's in 1st grade - wow, that went by fast!  Now she'll be in school for most of the day - that's a switch for us, she's always only done 1/2 day.  Hope mommy handles it well!  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115713180284786055?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115713180284786055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115713180284786055' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115713180284786055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115713180284786055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/09/first-day-of-school.html' title='First day of school . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115713153135582519</id><published>2006-09-01T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T10:25:31.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking an important business call</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/400/IMG_2800.jpg" alt="" 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/22617969-115713153135582519?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115713153135582519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115713153135582519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115713153135582519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115713153135582519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/09/taking-important-business-call.html' title='Taking an important business call'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115466832233490078</id><published>2006-08-03T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T22:17:25.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that go bump in the night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2690.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2690.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever the hubby is traveling it seems like this house comes alive with noises that I've never heard before.  I always tell myself that they're always there, I just don't usually hear them becuase we're all here and talking and making noise.  Well, tonight there was something different.  It was undeniable, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; it was in my bedbroom.&lt;br /&gt;I heard a distinct bump, bump from near the cabinet we keep our tv in. . .at first I thought it was just the shelving over there settling in and I ignored it.  But then, I heard it again, but louder this time.   Ut-oh.  What could it be??  Hmmm, I'm going to have to investigate.  And then I realized I was about to have one of those horror movie moments where your peeking into disaster and the audience is saying "don't look in there!".   But what can you do?  You've got to look - call it stupid human nature.&lt;br /&gt;I went over to the cabinet and quickly oepned the big doors - annnnd, nothing.  Okay, the drawers then?  What could be in there?  Perhaps the kitty?  Nahhhh, how would he have gotten in there?  I shut that drawer hours ago.  Well, I pulled open that drawer and who looked up at me with cute, sleepy eyes?&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the kitty.   So cute, all curled up in there, seemingly happy as can be.   Guess the little guy isn't claustrophobic - until now that is.&lt;br /&gt;What I want to know is - how long was he in there for and how on earth did he get in there?  I remember shutting the drawer earlier in the evening after Miles had pulled it open while exploring . . .but I think I would have noticed shutting the kitty away - right?   It's not a deep drawer.   Hmmmm, the mysteries of the animal kingdom continue . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115466832233490078?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115466832233490078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115466832233490078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115466832233490078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115466832233490078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/08/things-that-go-bump-in-night.html' title='Things that go bump in the night'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115466705678039293</id><published>2006-08-03T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T21:50:56.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Standard morning scene . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2687.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2687.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The usual drill in the morning these days is that we're either woken up by Miles, or he wakes up shortly after we do and then after a little diaper change and a little milky it's over to his couch for a little r&amp;r.  Eventually his sister pads silently down the stairs in her nighty (I'm always after her to put on her bathrobe so she's not so cold, but to no avail) and joins him on the little couch for a some Sesame Street.   Love that show - seems to get better and better.  The other day they were spoofing The Donald in a skit called the Grouch Apprentice.  It was pretty funny and I was thinking that "The Donald" couldn't have possibly been in on it otherwise he would have insisted on a special guest appearance that was not forthecoming.  So I guess Sesame Street decided to play hard-ball against The Donald.   Sesame Street's got bawls.   Alas, I digress - my point was that I love seeing Miles and his sis hanging out just like I hope they'll do always.   Gives me that warm and fuzzy "I love having a family!" feeling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115466705678039293?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115466705678039293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115466705678039293' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115466705678039293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115466705678039293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/08/standard-morning-scene.html' title='Standard morning scene . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115398396706413820</id><published>2006-07-26T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T00:06:07.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our newest housemate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2685.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2685.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2684.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2684.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the plan &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; to get a dog . . .but we opted  for  something a little easier on the lifestyle for now . . .plus Emma has been wanting a kitty forever - so we are now the happy parents of Domino, our sweet, rambunctious kitty.  He's making quick work of our plants and couches .  . .so we've taken to implementing the squirt bottle to keep the little sucker in line.  Ahhh, the joys of parenting.   He's so damn cute thought, it's worth it.   Don't you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115398396706413820?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115398396706413820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115398396706413820' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115398396706413820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115398396706413820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/07/our-newest-housemate.html' title='Our newest housemate'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115311825648473546</id><published>2006-07-16T23:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T23:43:50.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cribs:  Miles' pad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2624.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2624.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2625.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2625.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2617.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2617.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to my crib - we all about hanging loose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                     Here's me and my home girl Emmers gettin' funky to her Juic&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2618.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2618.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ebox&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prefer Prada . . .but Maddens will do in a pinch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2620.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2620.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, chillin' with my favorite people - Elmos.  Nobody chills like Elmo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115311825648473546?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115311825648473546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115311825648473546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115311825648473546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115311825648473546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/07/cribs-miles-pad.html' title='Cribs:  Miles&apos; pad'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115311548926244030</id><published>2006-07-16T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T22:51:29.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos from Germany</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2584.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2584.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2597.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2597.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2514.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2514.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2589.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2589.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2540.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2540.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally getting a few of these on the page   . ..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115311548926244030?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115311548926244030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115311548926244030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115311548926244030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115311548926244030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/07/photos-from-germany.html' title='Photos from Germany'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115230964115100963</id><published>2006-07-07T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T15:21:03.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stroller musings</title><content type='html'>The perfect stroller: an enigma. I am constantly in search of this mysterious item . . .and forever swiveling my head to take mental notes about strollers I see everywhere. I. will. find. the. perfect. stroller. Or maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;I recently started looking for a new stroller because we were headed to Germany and I wanted something really comfy for Miles to snooze in while we walked the cobblestone streets of the wee villages we had planned on visiting (&lt;a href="http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/06/germany-prep-and-stroller-that-ensued.html"&gt;see previous post&lt;/a&gt;). So I started out by cruising the web and looking at opinion sites. I initially used epinions which I really like, but then also discovered Baby Ga-Ga which has great reviews and lots of detailed information.  So, as you may already know, I decided to buy the Bumbleride Flyer stroller and was sooo excited to get this beauty in the mail and try it out.  We took our beautful bamboo dream ride out to the cliffs in Santa Cruz for it maiden voyage and  . ..bummer!  The front wheels of this stroller wobbled and gyrated to such a degree that it made it &lt;em&gt;very&lt;/em&gt; hard to use.  We were so disappointed!  We kept trying different things to make the wheels stay put and stop wobbling (even on the smoothest surfaces), but no luck.  It happened every time.  So I figured that I &lt;em&gt;must&lt;/em&gt; have been sent a faulty stroller - or more likely, it was damaged in shipping.  N was convinced that the chassi was not aligned squarely. &lt;br /&gt;So I called the company I bought it from - &lt;a href="http://www.tinyride.com"&gt;TinyRide&lt;/a&gt; and they were SO nice about it.  They offered to ship me out a new one immediately,  no questions asked and were very apologetic about the whole thing.  Since I was leaving for Germany in a few days, they even offered to overnight the replacement - amazing customer service!   We had the stroller shipped to my husband's parent's house because there wasn't time to have it delivered to our house before we had to leave for the airport.  So when we arrived in the morning, ready to leave for the airport I opened up the box, quickly put the stroller together and took my daughter for a quick spin up the block to try it out.  Dang!  Same problem - the front wheels wiggle and wobble all over the place.   So I sadly have to report that there is some inheirent design flaw with the BumbleRide Flyer stroller - ouch.   So my mother in law kindly packed the sucker back up for me and TinyRide had UPS come get it.  Luckily I had bought a cheap-o umbrella stroller as a backup for the trip in case my beloved new stroller didn't work.  Hmmph. &lt;br /&gt;The stroller we took was fine - but not nearly the bed I was hoping for Miles and the little wheels were no match for the bumpy cobblestone streets we encountered everywhere.  And &lt;em&gt;every &lt;/em&gt;parent there had an &lt;em&gt;amazing&lt;/em&gt; stroller!  They were all comfy, bed-like masterpieces that all the happy little German babies ambled by in while our poor little munchkin barely fit into his.   I was obsessed while there and I think my husband thinks I'm certifiable.  I even went to a department store there to check out what they had - but the beauties were all very expensive and what with the weak dollar, I figured it didn't make sense to buy it there, so I passed. &lt;br /&gt;So the search continues!  I am once again, looking, swiveling my head and scanning webpages trying to find that perfect combo of features.  Any ideas would be welcome!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115230964115100963?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115230964115100963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115230964115100963' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115230964115100963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115230964115100963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/07/stroller-musings.html' title='Stroller musings'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115230928065145344</id><published>2006-07-07T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T14:54:40.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Germany causes personality disorder</title><content type='html'>Well, well, well - turns out Miles doesn't really care much for traveling.  Not all &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; surprising really - but I was a little surprised at just  how &lt;em&gt;much&lt;/em&gt; he didn't care for it.  I guess being ripped from his idealic little life and being forced into too many confined spaces without the ability to stretch his new walking skills was just too much for the little guy.  He's gone mental.  While in Germany, and since returning he seems to have changed - it's as if his personality was altered in some way which makes me wonder if he didn't whack his frontal lobe at some point that I'm not aware of . . ..  our sweet, happy boy is now prone to random crying without reason, the inability to be on his own and serious stranger anxiety.  What. have. we. done. &lt;br /&gt;Grandma only offered at least 10 times to let Miles stay with her while we went on our  trip . . .duhhhh.  But nooooo, we couldn't leave our little man at home for 13 days - that would be too hard on him!  Hello?  We were so wrong about that!  He would have been so happy with his Mutti and Opa, loving life really.  Swimming pool, tons of attention, good food, suburbia - what more could he want?  Certainly not another trip to a smoke filled pub in Germany!  Oh well, live and learn they say.  We've learned, but still having to live with the concesquences.  For example, Miles now wakes at 2 am, and then again at 3 am ready to take on the day.  He's wide. awake.  The other morning we all decided to get up and have breakfast with dad before he headed off on his overnight business trip and that was actually pretty nice - despite the fact that it was 4 am. &lt;br /&gt;Sleep is soooo over-rated.  Right?  Riiiiggghhht. &lt;br /&gt;It's been 3 days since we returned and despite a complete lack of sleep I am soooo glad to be here.  &lt;em&gt;This&lt;/em&gt; feels like vacation, being home and relaxing.  I think next time we travel it'll just be mom and dad and it will be delicious. &lt;br /&gt;As a side note, Emma really enjoyed herself.  She made friends along the way, saw a beautiful castle, got to eat tons of sweets and stay up as late as she wanted every night.  Shangri-la for the little muffin - glad someone had fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115230928065145344?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115230928065145344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115230928065145344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115230928065145344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115230928065145344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/07/germany-causes-personality-disorder.html' title='Germany causes personality disorder'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115048447548726554</id><published>2006-06-16T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T12:02:35.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kindergarten graduation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2446.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2446.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2467.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2467.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2460.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2460.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An oxymoron you say?  Well, only if you've never had a child go through one . . .sooooo cute to see our little Emmers walk out of her classroom with her little construction paper graduation hat on, adorned with yarn tassle.  Be still my heart.  I can only imagine what a blubbering mess I'm going to be when she graduates from high school considering how misty eyed I got upon seeing her walk proudly by with her hat.  It's a milestone, nuf said.&lt;br /&gt;Her report card - fabulous.  HUGE improvement (in caps) was the take home message.  Ahhhh, our little girl is headed to 1st grade.  No need for therapy just yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115048447548726554?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115048447548726554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115048447548726554' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115048447548726554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115048447548726554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/06/kindergarten-graduation.html' title='Kindergarten graduation'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115043229027427148</id><published>2006-06-15T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T21:31:30.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well now, THAT'S what I call a perk</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;of working late, that is.  That perk would be missing out on Miles rocketing out a poop in my husband's general direction which happened a) when his diaper was off (of course) and b) while I was driving home from work.  HA!   Gotta love that.  Dad handled it very well - went into crisis management mode and by the time I got home, the two boys were bathed, reclothed and Miles' room was quarentined (due to the poop-spray that was hither and yon on the carpet - ewwww).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I think I'm in love all over again . . .who knew taking a poop shower would make me hot for hubby??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115043229027427148?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115043229027427148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115043229027427148' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115043229027427148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115043229027427148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/06/well-now-thats-what-i-call-perk.html' title='Well now, THAT&apos;S what I call a perk'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-115029419020170084</id><published>2006-06-14T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T14:02:53.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Germany prep and the stroller that ensued</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One week from today we are leaving for Germany! I am so excited! We're headed to see hubby's family first near Cologne and will actually see a World Cup game while we're there - ahhhhh!!! So excited - did I say that already?? SO excited to see a real game!&lt;br /&gt;After a few days we're going to head south to see Sleeping Beauty's castle and other fun things (yes, we're taking BOTH of our kids on this trip because we're lunatics). Then it's over to Munich to hook up with Emma's dad for a swap. He's taking her to Italy for about 10 days - she's got such a rough life that Emma. Then we head back north for our flight home via the sightseeing route. Can't wait to bask in the bratwurst, beer, castles, scenery and ack! crying from the backseat . . .hopefully not too much of that. . .we've never taken both of our kids on a trip anywhere - Miles is only 13 months, so tha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;t's not a surprise. But we decided to take the plunge and take them both to Germany - we had several offers from the grandparents to leave Miles with them, and I can always have Emma stay with her dad - but you know? We're total whimps and thought we'd miss them way too much and decided the sleepless nights and whining was all worth it. We're going to be on vacation right? So we'll just load up on the coffee to stay awake during the days and suck it up. What the hell. Anyway, that brings me to my next topic which is this: I needed a good stroller for getting around Germany that Miles would be comfortable enough in to sleep at any given moment (so we don't have to spend 2 - 3 hours every day in the hotel room smack dab in the middle of the day), could handle the potentially slightly rough terrain, had good sun/wind/rain protection (it's been raining there a lot lately) and was light enough to transport. So the search was on, and I mean the search. It took me for-ever to find the right stroller. I went from wanting something incredibly simple and light - to lusting after the much nicer models that come with all the features I was looking for. Thank gawd for all the great review sites out there - I found a particularly good one called: &lt;a href="http://strollers.baby-gaga.com/bumbleride-flyer.php"&gt;baby gaga&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that had really great and thorough reviews on it. And otherwise I relied on the old stand-by: &lt;a href="http://www.epinions.com"&gt;Epinions&lt;/a&gt;. Both were invaluable at providing information to this indecisive stroller buyer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, what did I eventually decide on? Wouldn't you know it, but one that I originally thought was wayyyy too expensive - mainly because I was convinced you could get the same features for less. And maybe you can get &lt;em&gt;some&lt;/em&gt; of them - but no, not &lt;em&gt;allll&lt;/em&gt; of them - and I wanted &lt;em&gt;allll&lt;/em&gt; of them. So I decided on the Bumbleride Flyer - tee hee! If you click on the baby gaga link you can see it for yourself - I got mine in Bamboo - which I hope is not some obnoxious mint green - but rather a soothing green to calm the spirit - and at 300 bucks, I'll expect this puppy to make me a latte en route to my destination . . .and one for my shocked husband who thinks I'm a total nut for aquiring yet &lt;em&gt;another&lt;/em&gt; stroller. Sorry babe, hadda do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So now I'm picturing myself strolling the streets of Germany with my sublime little tot inside blissing out on the Bamboo decor and reclining to his heart's content with no sun/rain/wind in his lovely little blue eyes . . .Mary Poppins, you got nuthin on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-115029419020170084?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/115029419020170084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=115029419020170084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115029419020170084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/115029419020170084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/06/germany-prep-and-stroller-that-ensued.html' title='Germany prep and the stroller that ensued'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114988243507687526</id><published>2006-06-09T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T12:47:15.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Watermelon Martinis and Thai food</title><content type='html'>Yumm-mmy!  I made these the other night when some friends came over for dinner and let me tell you - no complaints.  Good stuff - got the party rolling.  Karen helped me make a fun Thai dinner that was enjoyed by all (ok, so the chicken was a little spicey for the kids) and the martinis were the perfect compliment.&lt;br /&gt;Thai food is actually really easy to make if you know the secret:  &lt;a href="http://www.thaikitchen.com/"&gt;Thai Kitchen &lt;/a&gt;sauces in a jar.  All you have to do is put a scoop-full of their curry paste into a pan, add a few simple ingrediants and voila!  you've got yourself a fabulous Thai meal and your friends will think you're a genius.  Works every time.  The menu was as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fresh spring rolls with BBQ'd Tiger Shrimp&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spicey Beef Salad&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chicken satay with peanut sauce&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Red curry Tiger Shrimp with vegetables&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Coconut jasmine rice&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Makes my mouth water just thinking about it again . . .the meal was a little challenging, but much easier to pull off with help from Karen (thanks KBC!).  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Give a try and prepare to impress!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114988243507687526?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114988243507687526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114988243507687526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114988243507687526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114988243507687526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/06/watermelon-martinis-and-thai-food.html' title='Watermelon Martinis and Thai food'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114909917253645446</id><published>2006-05-31T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T11:29:41.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good-time Charlie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is in full effect. To such an extent that my son has now decided that good-time Charlie is all &lt;em&gt;he &lt;/em&gt;needs. Hmmm-mmm, that's right. Good-time Charlie saunters into the house after being gone for 4 days and Miles clammers, yells and reaches out for him. Then good-time Charlie stays for a day or two and is off again - mommy takes care of wee boy, day in and day out. Good-time Charlie returns 5 days later and the same scene unfolds - clammer-clammer, yell-yell, reach-reach. What the fuck? How did this happen? Do I not get up in the middle of the night and change your stinky-poopy diapers? Did I not walk you around endlessly until you learned to walk? Do I not feed you, hold you until you fall asleep, bring you fun toys and play with you? Yes, the answer to those questions is YES. I do all of those things - but does that matter? No. It doesn't. You only have eyes for good-time Charlie. Hmmmph. This should and could be a good thing for me right? Not having to be the go-to girl all the time for every little boo-boo. But you know what? I liked being the go-to girl with my daughter (I'm sure I'm filling one of the many voids left by my parents). So this thing with Miles and Papa? Not working for me so well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So what's the secret formula? Who knows - probably something only my husband-who-comes-from-disgustingly-well-adjusted-family-life can produce. Whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114909917253645446?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114909917253645446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114909917253645446' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114909917253645446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114909917253645446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/05/good-time-charlie.html' title='Good-time Charlie'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114859011014676754</id><published>2006-05-25T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T13:58:45.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Typical . . .I will never change. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So my big thing in the morning is to get out the door in time to make it to the beloved commuter lane before it goes away.  Ohhhh no, I do &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;like missing this opportunity to happily fly by all the sorry suckers who aren't cruel enough to stick their sweet baby in the backseat for an hour-plus so they can head off to their unpaid job with gleeful ease.  Hel-looo, that's like throwing away a coupon for free diapers for a year!   That said, I am constantly rushing around my house in the morning trying to get Miles and I ready (by myself, of course b/c hubby is travelling yet again) and debating whether or not to make myself that coffee that I can't live without (which takes 5 frickin' minutes because it's just GOT to be a latte). . .especially when I've stayed up late working for said unpaid job.  On &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; harried morning I decided to go for it - roll the dice, play with fire - make. the. coffee.  water. the. new. plants. before. they. die.  pusssshhhhhhing it . . .the minutes tick, tick, ticking away . . .Miles happily playing with his walker just taunting me to do yet more things before I leave for the next 12 hours . . .whirl, hiss, spatter and voila!  my beloved caffe latte is finito! - hmmmm, can't find my favorite commuter mug . . .ohhhhh yeah - I torched it in the microwave yesterday and almost started a fire - oooops.  Who knew that you couldn't boil water in a metal/rubbery commuter mug from my husband's company???  Oh well, I'll have to use this other one - some hideously huge Starbuck's thing that will also serve the purpose of building my biceps while I drink . . .Another look at the clock reveals that it's already 8:29 - oh no!  I'm in dangerous territory - must. get. in. the. car.  Okay little guy, saddle up!  Off we go, frothy, fabulous latte riding shotgun in the drink holder . . .cooling to a perfect blissful temp while I drive poll position over the windy highway that seperates us from the bustling Silicon Valley.&lt;br /&gt;And here's the point of this long-winded blog entry - I pick up the coffee mug THINKING that I've put the lid on corrrectly .  . .ah, no babe.  That would be a mistaken thought.  Lid NOT on right, coffee now ALL over my shirt - shit!  still hot!!  ouchy-ouch! &lt;br /&gt;What to do now??  Ah-ha, brilliant - I have a bottle of water in the car!  I'll just squirt a little dab on the stain to keep it from setting and that will dry by the time I get to my destination. . . &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dab&lt;/span&gt; being the operative word - you can guess what happened next . . .Ack!  I spill water ALL over myself.  I am now TOTALLY drenched with coffee &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; water.  Fabulous.  I am &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; talented - how did I get so talented?!  I know you're wondering, how could you not?  If my family reads this they will nod in agreement - this is standard behavior for me - as I said - typical.&lt;br /&gt;An-nee-way - that commuter lane that I worked so hard to get to?  Missed it.  Gone.  Nada, nada.  The on-ramp to the freeway with the metering lights took soooo long that by the time I merged, it was parking lot city, and I was just another one of the sorry suckers sitting there - except that unlike those now lucky people &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;had my poor sweet baby in the back seat squirming to get out of bondage  and, a completely wet shirt, nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114859011014676754?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114859011014676754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114859011014676754' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114859011014676754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114859011014676754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/05/typical-i-will-never-change.html' title='Typical . . .I will never change. . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114793214957607119</id><published>2006-05-17T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T23:02:29.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My all-star daughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2212.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2212.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Get. out.!  Our little Emmers&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; busted a move and went from "progressing slowly" to "knowing more than the other kids in class"!!!  (okay, so the fact that her teacher told her that is just slightly disfunctional, but that's another post).&lt;br /&gt;I am SO proud of my little girl!  Wow, she was really not in the mood to learn her numbers up to 100 and her sight words and the alphabet backwards - but you know what?  She did it.  She has now experienced what it's like to do something you don't want to do and then reap the rewards of a job well done.  I bought her a Juice Box that I've been saving for when she was finished with her test and I just gave it to her last night as a reward - she deserved it, she worked really hard.  I hope this is a harbinger of things to come, although I'm sure they'll be plenty of challenges ahead.  At least we've got our victory, I'm going to revel in it for a good while.&lt;br /&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/22617969-114793214957607119?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114793214957607119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114793214957607119' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114793214957607119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114793214957607119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-all-star-daughter.html' title='My all-star daughter'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114789922994066510</id><published>2006-05-17T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T13:53:49.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More adventures of the working mom . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I never quite feel like I have enough time to get any work done when I'm home with my kids - I always have grand plans of getting a bunch done and it just doesn't seem to happen.  So, the other day when they were miraculously simultaneously occupied - one watching Sesame Street, the other coloring - I snuck off to my office for a look see at my emails.  Of course they had been piling up and I was remiss on getting back to my co-workers on several action items .. .so I got sucked in and the next thing I know a 1/2 hour or more had passed . . .I would have gone blithely on if it weren't for the yells of my 5 year old - "mommy! mommy!  Miles ate something!  Miles ate something!"  I rushed to find out what all the ruckus was about - oh. dear.  Miles had somewhere found a Hershey's Kiss or two and managed to pop them into his mouth - wrappers and all - and then managed to mash them around and smear the saliva-gooey mess all over himself, the light yellow couch (I know, what AM I doing with a &lt;em&gt;light&lt;/em&gt; yellow couch with two kids?!) and the carpet.  Holy crap - what a mess.  Mom gets to work a bit??  I think not.  Pay the price lady.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Miles had a huge grin on his face - total delight - almost worth the mess . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114789922994066510?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114789922994066510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114789922994066510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114789922994066510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114789922994066510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/05/more-adventures-of-working-mom.html' title='More adventures of the working mom . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114732943141575082</id><published>2006-05-10T23:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T23:37:11.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My little Dracula . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2348.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2348.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just love those teeth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114732943141575082?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114732943141575082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114732943141575082' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114732943141575082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114732943141575082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-little-dracula.html' title='My little Dracula . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114732571422194256</id><published>2006-05-10T22:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T10:47:46.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pinnacles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2357.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2357.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2354-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2354-1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2351.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2351.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This past Saturday I woke up and had the hankering for a road trip. So we decided to head out to the Pinnacles - despite the fact that we found out it would be an almost 2 hour drive from our house. What the hell, we went for it.&lt;br /&gt;So we packed up the kids, some food, the backpack carrier and hit the road. On the way we realized that we hadn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; brought enough food for all of us for the whole day - since we would be gone for the whole day - so we decided to stop in Soledad to pick up something - the last town on the map before we headed out to the middle of no-where. Okay, so Soledad didn't seem to have your average everyday market that you may find in, oh, say any other town in the Bay Area .. .nope, this town is mainly hispanic so the market we found didn't have the usual fare. But we did manage to find something in between the weird rainbow colored, custardy looking things in the fridge and the large slabs of meat readily available ...some peanuts that didn't end up tasting like typical peanuts, some milk for Miles, some bananas and ahhh, our lucky find - churros. Yummy.&lt;br /&gt;Off we went, &lt;a href="http://www.gourmetsleuth.com/recipe_churros.htm"&gt;Churros&lt;/a&gt; in hand&lt;/span&gt;, ready to face the elements. Another &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;17 miles and we arrived at the visitor center. Despite the fact that it was cold and foggy at the coast that day, it. was. hot. at the Pinnacles. Whew - what a difference. We loaded up Miles in the backpack carrier, got Emma's shoes on and headed up the steep trail to the top of the high peaks trail. I was so impressed with Emma who hiked quite a distance to make it there. She did, of course, have to get carried by Pappi for a while - who btw, was already carrying Miles as well. Pappi gets his work out. But overall, she did a great job - and she was very cute to point out all of the flowers along the way and even tell me the name of some of them. Very impressive!&lt;br /&gt;Near the top there were stairs carved into the rock and a rail you had to hold on to for stability - Emma charged on up and did a great job - go girl! I'm so glad she's at the stage now where she can start to hold her own, it's fun to see.&lt;br /&gt;When we finally got back down the mountain we were pooped, pooped. I think before kids we would have probably gone a lot further and been a lot less tired - but where's the fun there?!&lt;br /&gt;We had the perfect family day and were all warm and fuzzy on the long ride home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114732571422194256?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.nps.gov/pinn/' title='The Pinnacles'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114732571422194256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114732571422194256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114732571422194256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114732571422194256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/05/pinnacles.html' title='The Pinnacles'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114687095240759450</id><published>2006-05-05T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T16:15:52.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Cinqo de Mayo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's Friday, it's Friday, it's Friday!  Yippee . . .isn't it fun to love Friday's again?  Only something I love when I have a job - otherwise, it's just another day .. .it's nice to love a particular day again.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Today we're having a little office par-tay .. .oh yeah.  Celebrating Cinqo de Mayo .. .cuz we're all from Mexico, not.  But what the hell, an excuse to have a party.  Got the music going and the beer chillin' . . .too bad I have to drive the hill and can't have any.  Oh well, wouldn't be so good for the post-barf-session-belly anyway. . ..tra-la-la-la-la-la . . .it's Friday, who cares?!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Miles is on his way here to join in the festivities, can't wait to see the little bugger!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114687095240759450?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114687095240759450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114687095240759450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114687095240759450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114687095240759450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/05/happy-cinqo-de-mayo.html' title='Happy Cinqo de Mayo!'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114676442909534897</id><published>2006-05-04T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T10:40:29.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My fabulous and not so fabulous week . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This past Sunday my husband and I took his brother and wife to see David Sedaris - and that.  was. fabulous.  That man is funny!  I love his books and he was equally hilarious in person.  He read a few pieces of his writing and it was amazing - the way that man thinks is so odd, and yet, he hits the nail on the head every time.  I was thinking back to when I first picked up one of his books (&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0316776963/sr=8-1/qid=1146763646/ref=pd_bbs_1/102-0721355-7414518?%5Fencoding=UTF8"&gt;Me Talk Pretty One Day&lt;/a&gt;) and started reading it - I had no background information about him - didn't know the extent of his freakish personality, or that the completely fucked up nature of his thought patterns and opinions would someday seem somehow normal to me.  When I started to read Me Talk Pretty One Day I was taken aback by his writing - how could anyone possibly be so fucked up??  But once you get a little numb to it, it becomes so funny, and as I said - strangely normal - for him, that is.  I really came to love his writing - and I'm sure that fact that it took me a while to warm up to it shows my lack of literary acuumen - whatever, bygones - I'm on board now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, the not so fabulous part of this week??  Getting Miles' stomach flu on Monday night . ..eee-gads, it's been a longgggg week full of nastiness.  Mamas try not to let your babies puke on you multiple times .. . like my little lamb did.  Oi-vey.  On Friday night while we were having dinner Miles was squirming to get out of his high chair.  So I lifted him out and the next thing I know he's unloading said dinner all over my face, chest, lap .  ..etc.  Poor wee fellow - poor mommy.  Bummer dude.  &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, big surprise, come Monday I was in the same boat - except worse.  Miles just puked a couple of times - me, I was up from 2 am until sometime the next afternoon praying to the porcelein god.  It's now Thursday and I'm back at work, feeling a little hollow, a little lighter in my step and a little wafflely. ..still haven't had any coffee yet . . .deprived of my favorite vice - another blow.  When will the injustice stop, I ask you?  Here's to hoping for my iron gut back .  . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114676442909534897?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114676442909534897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114676442909534897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114676442909534897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114676442909534897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-fabulous-and-not-so-fabulous-week.html' title='My fabulous and not so fabulous week . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114625203203768654</id><published>2006-04-28T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T12:44:47.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Miles!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2340.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2340.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/DSCN0080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/DSCN0080.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2342.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2342.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Miles, today you are 1 year old!  You are our sweet, happy, curious, energetic, big-little guy and we love you soooo much.  You have brightened up our lives and brought even more happiness to our house.  You and your papa have a special bond and I love to see your face when he walks in the room - total delight and excitement and a full body smile!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Right now you love:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Walking!  You're a big walker now, taking a few timid steps here and there on your own, but still preferring to hold on to a pinky of the nearest grown-up or sister for balance and comfort.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Blowing on the fish in your room above your crib to see them move (so cute!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Playing with your cousin, Derick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Clapping and dancing to music -  you love the tunes, I can see a future for you here . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Getting hugs and kisses from your sister.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Kissing the stuffef Elmo, Dora and Po dolls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Avocado, cantelope, tofu, broccoli, mandarin oranges, salmon, cous-cous, rice, and chicken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Seeing your papa and/or mama after we've been at work - biggggg smiles!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Miles, you're the best, and worth every bit of the poop, barf and crying.  We love you, love you, love you! Happy birthday bubba!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114625203203768654?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114625203203768654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114625203203768654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114625203203768654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114625203203768654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/04/happy-birthday-miles.html' title='Happy Birthday Miles!'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114624950825372599</id><published>2006-04-28T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T11:38:28.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures of the working mother:</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;April 27, 3 am&lt;/strong&gt;:  Emma comes into my room crying:  "I have to go to the bathroommmmmm, I have to go to the bathrooommmmmm . . ."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Okay, okay, go already!  Big surprise, she crawls into bed with me after using my bathroom and proceeds to kick me all night in the back, lovely.  I stay awake for another hour remembering that I've forgotten to a) get back to friends who have called, b)organize a gift for Emma's teacher for teacher appreciation day (why in the world did I sign up to be room parent???),  c)call the new housecleaner back since our current one sucks and left dirt all over the place when she came yesterday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;April 27, 8 am: &lt;/strong&gt;we all wake up (impressive sleeping in!), Miles is still sick, poor fella, and  it's his birthday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;April 27, 8:45 am: &lt;/strong&gt;I've managed to get the two kids dressed and in their car seats.  Miles has a bottle and his nose has stopped leaking like a faucet for the moment, good.  I go back inside to get my shoes, jacket and anything else I've forgotten.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;April 27, 8:50 am:  &lt;/strong&gt;I open my car door to hear: "mommy, mommy, Miles threw up! Miles threw up!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Oh dear, the poor thing!  He was coughing so much that he threw up his milk.  Okayyy, get him out of his seat and take him up to his room to change him, wipe that nose, and try to get a smile out of the wee fellow.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;April 27, 9:00 am:  &lt;/strong&gt;We actually leave the house, despite the fact that Miles is sitting on top of a towel on his wet car seat, nice.  We head to Starbuck's down the street for a little pick-me-up since we're out of milk and I couldn't make my usual latte to go.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;April 27, 9:10 am:  &lt;/strong&gt;Inside Starbucks:  "Mommy, I have to go poo-poo!"  Ooookay, let's order and then we'll use the bathroom.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;April 27, 9:40 am:  &lt;/strong&gt;Bumper-to-bumper traffic on the 85.  Miles sounds like some kind of wind machine in the back seat weezing and sniffling.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;April 27, 10:00 am:  &lt;/strong&gt;I actually arrive at my destination, my sister-in-law's house where Miles and Emma will spend the day with the nannies.  Drop off goes well, Emma gets to go to Happy Hollow with her cousin and cousin's grandma.  I get back into my car, take a swig of coffee and let out a big sigh. .  .ahhhhh, time to change the tunes and get.to.work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114624950825372599?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114624950825372599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114624950825372599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114624950825372599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114624950825372599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/04/adventures-of-working-mother.html' title='Adventures of the working mother:'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114616303688914842</id><published>2006-04-27T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T11:37:16.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sassafrass</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I think it's time to rename our little sass-machine.  From now on, I'm going to call her Sassafrass - cuz she's all sass these days - even when on an Easter egg hunt as you can see here.  Really wondering what the teenage years are going to be like - I figure it can go either way depending on who she ends up hanging out with - hopefully she falls in with the studious crowd and not the six-pack to get started crowd.  Of course, I turned out all right . . .eventually.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2332.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2332.jpg" alt="" 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/22617969-114616303688914842?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114616303688914842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114616303688914842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114616303688914842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114616303688914842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/04/sassafrass.html' title='Sassafrass'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114599700628397776</id><published>2006-04-25T13:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T13:30:06.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apres Easter tasting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, and I can't forget to mention the little mission that Karen and I went on after the egg hunt . . .tee hee.  Now that's when the grown ups started having fun.  On our way home we stopped in at the &lt;a href="http://www.sarticious.com/"&gt;Sarticious Spirits&lt;/a&gt; distillery in Santa Cruz to try some gin since Karen was in the market for some for her sister in NYC.  I don't know if you've ever "tasted" gin before, but it's not something I usually drink straight - and I nearly fell over after taking a swig.  Not to say that their gin isn't good - it's just a shocker to the system after Easter candy all morning.  They also had some wine to taste there which we started out with which was pretty tasty, but I don't think it did anything to prepare me for the fire in the hole from the gin.  So we tried the gin and Karen liked it well enough and decided to buy some - well, you can't buy any alcohol made from grains *at* the distillery in CA - only alcohol made from fruits can be bought directly from a distillery.  Hmmmm, strange distinction that goes back to prohobition days.  So after tasting we left and hit the liquor store to get our gin - odd, eh?&lt;br /&gt;We also stopped by the &lt;a href="http://www.findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1216/is_2_216/ai_n16047579"&gt;Swift Street Courtyard&lt;/a&gt; to browse the fun shops there and we both found fun treasures.  Karen got a water pitcher that looked like a wine bottle with it's top lopped off and made into a pour spout and a necklace and I found colorful handmade place mats for the kids.  Gerroooovy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114599700628397776?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114599700628397776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114599700628397776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114599700628397776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114599700628397776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/04/apres-easter-tasting.html' title='Apres Easter tasting'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114599599615502793</id><published>2006-04-25T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T13:13:16.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Easter Bunny came late this year . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2305.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2305.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2294.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2294.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2336.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2336.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Betweeen Emma being off in Hawaii this year with her dad and the crappy weather, we/I decided to arrange for an Easter celebration a week after the real Easter.  So we all went up to my brother's place in Bonny Doon and had a little hunt   . .. despite the still crappy weather.  This will definitely go down as one of the nastiest springs in No. Cal.  where we usually have beach day after beach day.  Whatever.  Anyway, the hunt - it was fun.  We all brought food and had a yummy brunch before hiding the 72 candy filled eggs - 72 eggs becuase there were 4 little girls to look for them and we wanted things to be even &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; we were expecting a lot more hunters - but fevers and colds got the best of some.   So Emma, Chloe, Rinnie and Nicole hit the jackpot and got to hunt down 18 eggs each (see, we're not just rotting their teeth, we're teaching valuable counting skills too).  Not sure if Emma's actually eaten that much candy in one sitting before .  .. she managed to get a ton down her gullet before I discovered what she was doing and confiscated the basket.  Ever heard of pacing yourself girl?  I think not.  There was a lovely mood to follow later in the day.  Charming.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, another holiday under our belt and moving on.  Miles turns 1 this Friday - I can't believe it's already been a year!!  Wow, time flies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114599599615502793?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114599599615502793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114599599615502793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114599599615502793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114599599615502793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/04/easter-bunny-came-late-this-year.html' title='The Easter Bunny came late this year . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114555139437219536</id><published>2006-04-20T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T09:53:38.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remiss on a VERY important blog entry . ..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2248.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2248.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Let's see . .. &lt;em&gt;where&lt;/em&gt; did I put that blog . . .hmmmm . .. .no, not there . . . hmmm . . .no, that's not it ... oh, shit, there's that parking ticket I haven't paid yet (!), better stack that over there so I don't forget again . . . ..hmmm, where &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; that blog . ..OH! There it is .. .oh! Hi, you're here already! Okay, well then I'll just get started: I have &lt;strong&gt;big&lt;/strong&gt; news and I am 2 days late in reporting it: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Miles walked! He took &lt;strong&gt;3&lt;/strong&gt; steps all on his &lt;em&gt;own&lt;/em&gt;! I took him for a walk the other day with Angela and afterwards we went to the very yummy &lt;a href="http://www.santacruzlive.com/ex/content/view/916/113/"&gt;River Cafe&lt;/a&gt; to have a little nibble. While there, Miles was busy exploring, as per usual, and he made the executive decision that the River Cafe was where he was going to take his momentous first steps. I was holding his hands, walking him around and I pried my fingers from his grip and he just stood there for a minute - thinking about what to do next - Angela and I held our breath . . .and then . . .(drum roll please!) . . .he took 1 Frankenstein step! . ..2 Frankenstein steps!! . . .3 Frankenstein steps!!! We have lift-of! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Of course, this was that last we've seen of the walking for two days . ..but give him time, what's the rush?? Hey mom, I'm just getting this whole thing figured out - plus - who needs to walk on their own when you're there to hold my hand all the time and that's &lt;strong&gt;so &lt;/strong&gt;much fun! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Our little guy is growing up, and so fast - how does it go &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; fast?! Part of me wants him to stay a baby forever and the other part of me can't wait for him to pack his own lunch and skip off to school ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114555139437219536?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114555139437219536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114555139437219536' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114555139437219536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114555139437219536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/04/remiss-on-very-important-blog-entry.html' title='Remiss on a VERY important blog entry . ..'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114504910251257171</id><published>2006-04-14T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T14:11:42.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>High Tea</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2277.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2277.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2278.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2278.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;    Four fabulous ladies and 1 baby boy had high tea the other day in Capitola at the Country Court Tea Room. What fun! I got fun presents for my bday and got to spend time with my good friend Angela, her daughter Bianca, and Emma and Miles and sip tea from a fancy little cup. This has now become our yearly tradition around either my birthday or Angela's. Last year I was the pregnant one and luckily,  this year she is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Miles was a questionable guest for a tea room . . .not exactly the mild mannered clientelle they're looking to see. Luckily Emma and Bianca walked him around the majority of our time there (which I'm sure the other tea sippers loved - not) which kept him somewhat in line - but really, not the place for a baby. Maybe next year we'll have to change our venue since there will be 4 kids to keep a lid on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114504910251257171?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114504910251257171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114504910251257171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114504910251257171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114504910251257171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/04/high-tea.html' title='High Tea'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114504770504261386</id><published>2006-04-14T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T13:48:25.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting letters .  ..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/img_2226.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/img_2226.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2228.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2228.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My friend Karen (giver of name Mimi) collects pictures of interesting letters, so I've snapped a couple for her:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;hmmm, they look a little blurry ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114504770504261386?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114504770504261386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114504770504261386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114504770504261386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114504770504261386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/04/interesting-letters.html' title='Interesting letters .  ..'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114464394938507469</id><published>2006-04-09T21:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T18:05:40.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's my birfday, my birfday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I had such a nice birthday this year!  Last night my husband's brother, wife and 2 kids came over for dinner and brought cake, wine and presents.  We convinced them that they couldn't possibly drive home (I was sure to fill their glasses every chance I got to ensure this) last night and that they just had to stay. So we had a slumber party and stayed up way too late and drank way too much wine - especially that last bottle that was given to us by a friend a few years back and had a handwritten label that said something forgettable about it being a Zin but something very memorable about it having 18% alcohol by volume . . .hmmm, opening this one at midnight, possibly &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; the best idea. Headache today to prove it. When will I learn to drink more water as I go? Anyway, that's another post all together.&lt;br /&gt;This morning my fabulous hubby got up, took care of the baby &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; made a yummy breakfast for all us. After we ate, the in-laws left and I attempted to sneak off to my bed for a little b-day nappy . ..but I was pleasantly interrupted by my yet again fabulous husband who had an armful of presents for me! He, Emma and Miles came in and we ripped open the packages - with a lot of help from Emma, of course (you clearly need help here mommy). The booty was a beautiful necklace and matching earrings, an ipod adapter for my car so I can listen to my tunes while commuting, and a beautiful glass platter with flowers embedding into it. Very thoughtful and sweet gifts, hubby gets big points!&lt;br /&gt;Then, the cosmos aligned and Miles went down for a nap, Emma decided she wanted to watch The Sound of Music (a fabulous 2.5 hour distraction that every parent should own) and WE got to take a nap. Ha! Who thought it possible with 2 kids about? Not me! But it happened and it was heaven.&lt;br /&gt;Later in the day we loaded up the car and got ice cream and headed to the beach for a little play. Unfortunately it was freezing down there, but we stayed a little while anyway and ran around for warmth.&lt;br /&gt;Once we got back we were just worked - tired as all get out. So I layed around being generally sloth-like while hubby miraculously helped Emma rearrange her room (where did I find this guy??). Now he's upstairs putting her to bed - need I say more? I think I have the most wonderful husband on the planet.  He rocks.&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired. Time for bed. Another day and suddenly I'm 36. Not much to celebrate there, that's for sure. It's always hard to get into the habit of telling people you're a year older than you were the day before - there's something so strange about it.  Why strain myself?  Maybe I'll just stay 35, uh, er, I mean 25 - yeah, that's it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114464394938507469?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114464394938507469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114464394938507469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114464394938507469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114464394938507469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/04/its-my-birfday-my-birfday.html' title='It&apos;s my birfday, my birfday!'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114434329498378479</id><published>2006-04-06T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T10:09:01.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doggy do-right</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well damn if Emma doesn't keep bringing up the fact that I told her we could get a puppy this summer! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The background story is that we’ve been &lt;em&gt;thinking&lt;/em&gt; about getting a dog for quite a long time now, but some major life event keeps coming up that delays it. First, it was the fact that we were remodeling our entire house for-&lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt;, oh, it went on and on and on. We were worried we’d give the little pooch some sort of doggy psychosis what with all the brain-rattling noises and chaos. And then, I was pregnant with Miles and we were still under construction – &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; was special, let me tell you – &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; didn’t want to live there. Then, which is now, we’ve got little Miles to think about – we wanted to give him some time to adjust to being human and to grow a bit so he was a least a little bit bigger than the dog. Then? Then I started working and that has thrown a whole new wrench in the works – how can I raise a puppy now when I’m gone all day 3 days a week? Who will take care of the wee thing while we’re all away? Also, we’re planning a family vacation to Germany this summer for 2 weeks and can’t very well leave a new member of the family behind to develop paranoia and abandonment issues (see I’m quite convinced that dogs develop all of the same problems as humans and that’s why there are so many f’ed up dogs out there, because people really don’t get this detail about their pets). An-nee-way, Emma knows that we’ve been talking about getting a dog because we’ve had lots of conversations about what &lt;em&gt;kind&lt;/em&gt; of dog we want to get (and I think we’ve decided that we want a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.boxer-rescue.org/1849.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; because all the full breds seem so, well, you know, so full of issues) and so we’re getting committed to this idea. Because as anyone who has kids knows, once a kid has glommed on to an idea, look out, because you will never hear the end of it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I must, in some sleep-deprived haze, agreed to Emma that we would get a dog this summer after we got back from Germany because I have now heard her bring it up on a number of occasions. The first time it happened I was in her classroom at school volunteering when I heard her talking to her friend and it went like this: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Emma: I’m getting a dog this summer! (mom's ears perk up) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Friend: No you’re not (you couldn't possibly be that lucky) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Emma: Yes I am! My mom said we’re getting a dog when we get back from Germany! (mom slinks away) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What?! Shit! I thought she was going to drop that idea just like everything else I casually mention. She is normally so easy about stuff like that! She’ll want something and then forget all about it. Well, not the dog. Nope, this idea she has glommed onto with fierce determination – because this was not the last time she mentioned it. I’d say since that conversation in the classroom she has brought it up a least 10 times – and it’s always just a little comment here or there out of the blue: Are we going to get a dog like Chloe’s? (her cousin) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What kind of dog are we getting? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Can our puppy sleep in my room? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I want to name our puppy Ruby! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I want to name our puppy . . . .X! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Are we getting our puppy right after Germany? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When are we going to Germany?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It goes on and on. I think I’m committed here. Okay, so now I have to figure out how to make this work so the poor pooch isn’t stuck at home alone all the time. Anyone have any good techniques for integrating a dog into the family with kids and a busy schedule successfully? I'd love to hear how you make it work because the last thing I want is a sad puppy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114434329498378479?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114434329498378479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114434329498378479' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114434329498378479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114434329498378479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/04/doggy-do-right.html' title='Doggy do-right'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114375119796369705</id><published>2006-03-30T12:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T12:39:57.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>At least it's spring somewhere . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/Chick.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Chick.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nothing says spring like a wee chick, does it?  This cute little guy is the new pet of my sister's family in Idaho.  Makes me want to start planning that Easter egg hunt . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;He wouldn't want to be living around here these days, nothing but cold, rain, and more cold.  I've had it!  I'm going on strike - not really, but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.husbandonstrike.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;guy is - too funny!  Poor schmuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114375119796369705?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114375119796369705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114375119796369705' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114375119796369705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114375119796369705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/at-least-its-spring-somewhere.html' title='At least it&apos;s spring somewhere . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114367153498204764</id><published>2006-03-29T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T14:56:35.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You want some of this?!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is a post about events past - but it was just so friggin' hi-larious, I had to get it down in print. . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;One night, not too long ago my daughter was transformed into a character from the Sopranos - and I don't mean one of the nice characters like Meadow or Dr. Malfi, no, I mean like Tony, the mobster. Here's what happened: I was getting Emma ready for bed and had her all cozy in her bed, pj's on and story picked out when in walks my hubby to say goodnight. He came over to her bed, gave her a peck on the cheek, said his goodnights and started heading for the door. Emma, ever the one for procrastination when it comes to bedtime, jumped out of bed and glommed on to N's leg with fervent passion and said, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;"Nooooo, you can't leave!!!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And here's where N went wrong (although if he hadn't, I would have never witnessed this behavior in my child), he turned around, grabbed a pillow off the ground and yelled, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;"pillow fight!!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;and smacked Emma in the head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;She didn't miss a beat, started laughing her head off and ran to her bed for a pillow to retaliate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;"Pillow fight, pillow fight, pillow fight!, she screamed." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Emma had just won the friggin' lottery - Pappi was here to play. Gawd, I rolled my eyes - bedtime just got shot to shit because she's going to be all amped up for hours now. Oh well, might as well enjoy the show. And here's where it got totally hilarious - Emma takes her pillow, holds it up over her head, aims it at Pappi and says, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"You want this? You want a piece of this? Huh?"&lt;/strong&gt; whack!&lt;br /&gt;N and I look at each other, stunned, and just burst out laughing. Oh. my. god. When did my daughter turn into a NYC mobster?? Where on earth did she learn that line?? (surely NOT at my house, ha ha).&lt;br /&gt;Probably because of the fact that N and I started laughing so hard she continued on with the act,&lt;br /&gt;"You want this? You really want this?" Wham! Whap! Bang!&lt;br /&gt;And it went on and on . . .soooo funny, we were just dying. She was in a zone, channeling Tony Soprano. Emma never ceases to amaze me and I don't know where she gets her material. We used to watch the Sopranos religiously - but I swear, the door was closed and she WAS asleep . . .wasn't she?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114367153498204764?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114367153498204764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114367153498204764' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114367153498204764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114367153498204764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/you-want-some-of-this.html' title='You want some of this?!!!'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114326012375305836</id><published>2006-03-24T20:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T21:55:13.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Question still rattling around in my head . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A little while back I wrote a post about the debate I was having with myself (and my husband, of course) over whether or not have a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006_02_01_lifewithmimi_archive.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;third child&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. Well, just when I think I have this all sorted out in my head, I find myself changing my mind again. So internet, please go through this argument with me and give me some needed feedback . .. I'm curious about the decisions that other people have made regarding this question and how you came to that decision. I read &lt;a href="http://www.literarymama.com/columns/degreesoffreedom/archives/000336.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.literarymama.com/columns/degreesoffreedom/archives/000619.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; found them hilarious and a bit scary - and would love to hear more stories.&lt;br /&gt;So I'll start with where we, as a family are now . . .&lt;br /&gt;The situation:&lt;br /&gt;We now have Emma, who is 5, living with us only 1/2 of the time because I share custody of her with my X (and it is for this reason that I even debate about &lt;em&gt;having &lt;/em&gt;a&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;third child). Then there's Miles, who is now almost 11 months and is a pretty easy (is there such a thing?!) baby. Normally I would be quite satisfied and feel complete with 2 kids -&lt;em&gt; but&lt;/em&gt; the fact is, I only have Emma with me 1/2 time and this means Miles is alone for 1/2 the time and always will be. I worry that he will miss having a sibling around all the time and will get lonely. I realize that there are many, many only children out there and that they are happy, well adjusted kids who have friends that help them from feeling loney - BUT, Miles will be in this limbo situation where some of the time he has his sister there and the other part of the time, he doesn't - and I feel like he will be missing out on a close sibling relationship because of this.&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things to consider . ..and it's probably best just to lay out the pros and cons to make sense of them, so here I go:&lt;br /&gt;Pro's:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Miles will have a playmate and someone closer to his age around all the time (because if we're going to do this, let's get this show on the road soon). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I guess on some level I'll feel less guilty about depriving him of a full family experience&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;having another sweet little person around to be part of our family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Uhhhmmm, hmmmm, uhhhhmmmm, shit, I think I've already run out of pros. Might be answering my question for myself . ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Cons:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A LOT more work for me with 3 kids to take care of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;being PREGNANT again - gahhh, just the thought makes me want to cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;going through all of the baby stages again - while definitely unbeleivably cute and sweet, I'm over having to constantly worry about how my little man is trying to destroy himself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;LESS sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;more work, oh yeah, I think I already said that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Less time with my husband&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Harder to travel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Longer to wait until: freeeeeedom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;less attention for each kid - mommy gets diluted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So those are them, I've probably forgotten a few because I'm tired and drank some dark beer tonight. What have I forgotten? I guess the main thing is that I feel totally compelled to have this 3rd child, as if I don't have a say in the matter - I know that sounds like I'm a loon - and maybe I am - but I have this weird feeling that I'm just supposed to have this third kid - but then the other part of me says, wait a minute - another one? Are you kidding me? Are you stupid? Things are going well now, you have two wonderful kids, there's enough of you to go around and that could change with another one in the mix. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is there anyone out there who had 2 kids and then did or didn't go for the third for whatever reason and has a comment to make - or know someone who was in this position? I feel like I want to look into this more before making my final, final decision. Once the final decision is made I'm hoping my husband will go that little snip-snip procedure so we can start enjoying some hormone-free birth control. What a fabulous day that will be! Party. on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114326012375305836?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114326012375305836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114326012375305836' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114326012375305836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114326012375305836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/question-still-rattling-around-in-my.html' title='Question still rattling around in my head . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114322274702247990</id><published>2006-03-24T09:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T09:52:27.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Template changes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I know, I know, I can't make up my mind which template to use . . .the problem is that I don't &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; like &lt;em&gt;any&lt;/em&gt; of the Blogger templates - I want something more customized, but don't know the html to work it.  Oh well, back to the dots for now . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114322274702247990?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114322274702247990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114322274702247990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114322274702247990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114322274702247990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/template-changes_24.html' title='Template changes'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114307550692487319</id><published>2006-03-22T16:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T16:58:26.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miles' Favorite things right now</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;pointing - at everything and everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;climbing the stairs, with a periodic pause to turn and point at you - too cute!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;saying: "ahh-dat!" - those words will have to wait . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;spinning 360's on his butt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;playing with the fridge magnets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;clapping along to music (&lt;a href="http://www.musicalme.com"&gt;I think those music classes paid off!)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;waving at the Teletubbie baby and Big Bird&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;learning to walk with my &lt;a href="http://www.fisher-price.com/us/infanttoys/product.asp?s=bubrilliant&amp;amp;id=17813"&gt;helper&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;eating my last meal's leftovers off of the floor - ewwwww&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;throwing stuff into mommy and pappi's bathtub&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114307550692487319?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114307550692487319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114307550692487319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114307550692487319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114307550692487319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/miles-favorite-things-right-now.html' title='Miles&apos; Favorite things right now'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114272218131166309</id><published>2006-03-18T14:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T16:44:26.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My daughter's reaction to "study time"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_1154.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_1154.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So recently my daughter's kindergarten teacher let my X and I know that she was "progressing very slowly" and that she &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;may&lt;/span&gt; have to repeat K if she didn't start improving her math and reading skills . . .&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;REPEAT Kindergarten&lt;/span&gt; - hello? Who knew that when kids leave K now they need to know a slew of words, how to read simple books and count to 100?? My goodness, I don't think I knew how to do &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;any&lt;/span&gt; of those things at that age - but whatever, I kno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;w how important it is that we compete with Japan and Europe . . .NOT. An-nee-way, so lil' Emmers needs to pull it together sister and hop on the scholastic bandwagon. This revelation has &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; gone over all that well with my little princess-tiara-wielding-free-spirit artist. She's none too pleased with the crack down on the books. And this was her reaction the other day when I asked her, yet &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt; to please concentrate on the letters we were reviewing:&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, talk to the bootie, cuz the hand's off duty!" Wha - wha - whaaaaat did you say???? OMG, I was laughing so hard I couldn't talk. Are you kidding me? Where did you learn that?! Rhetorical - she learns all slang and sass from her aunt Kiki (aka: Katie, my X's 20-something sister).&lt;br /&gt;"I learned it from Ki-ki!" she said gleefully, looking very smug indeed. Oh dear, we do have some work ahead of us in the teenage years, don't we? If anyone has forgotten - Emma is 5 - yes 5! Not sure WHAT 13 is going to look like, but I. AM. SCARED. &lt;img alt="" src="file:///Users/jessekennedy/Desktop/IMG_1154.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114272218131166309?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114272218131166309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114272218131166309' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114272218131166309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114272218131166309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/my-daughters-reaction-to-study-time.html' title='My daughter&apos;s reaction to &quot;study time&quot;'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114263431675958001</id><published>2006-03-17T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T14:30:54.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Miles</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I miss Miles.  Even though I'm only working part time, I still miss him.  It takes some getting used to, this getting back to work thing.  Today I went back to the house to see him on a break and I swear, he looked bigger to me.  And his cousin has yet another tooth!  Am I going to start missing little and/or big details in his life now?  I'm not sure how I feel about that.  Luckily I do have the option of seeing him when I want to, so it's not like a tragic situation.  But I wonder sometimes what I'm missing.  And I miss spending time with him.  Funny, because on the one hand I'm loving the fact that I have time to myself to pursue a job and a life outside of being a mommy - but I'm also feeling like I want to spend more time with him.  And actually, this is probably one of the positive effects of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;having&lt;/span&gt; a job - it reminds me that just hanging out with my kids is a great thing.  Not that I didn't think that before, but now I appreciate it more - and that's always a good thing.  I really think the more kids are appreciated, the happier they are as people.  And  that doesn't mean kissing their little butts, it just means genuinely wanting to spend time with them and being present when you do.&lt;br /&gt;I'll drink to that . . .a green beer, to be specific . ..one of the perks of that job is happy hour with the gang . . .teee heee....&lt;br /&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/22617969-114263431675958001?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114263431675958001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114263431675958001' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114263431675958001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114263431675958001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/missing-miles.html' title='Missing Miles'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114237357509540027</id><published>2006-03-14T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T13:59:35.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A tooth, a tooth!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2180.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2180.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After all of those months of me claiming that Miles was teething, he now actually has a tooth coming in!  The strange thing?  It's his fang tooth, to the left of where his front teeth will be . .. hmmm, does  this mean anything I wonder??  Miles, a vampire?&lt;br /&gt;He does like to gnaw on my chin . . .&lt;br /&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/22617969-114237357509540027?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114237357509540027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114237357509540027' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114237357509540027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114237357509540027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/tooth-tooth.html' title='A tooth, a tooth!'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114227975330644087</id><published>2006-03-13T11:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T11:58:06.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The list</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have a list on my fridge that reminds me to buy things I need, and today it should read:  PATIENCE, PATIENCE, PATIENCE.  Pull. it. together. woman.  Just because you're late for Emma's piano lesson and she won't let you brush her hair and Miles is crying and not yet dressed and you realize you've forgotten to make her lunch as you finally get the whole mess out into the car . . . remember - keep.it.together.  Don't lose your shit.&lt;br /&gt;Where in the f#W@%k is that Mary Poppins woman?!  I need herrrrrrrr.  It's days like today that really make me question my ability to be a good mother.  I get flustered so easily sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;Luckily it doesn't last long - I was back to my normal self once we were all loaded up into the car, on our way.  Good going, Sybil.  But really, I shouldn't let those things bother me . . .if I'm going to be doing this for the next 20 years . ..20?  O.M.G.  Third kid?  Don't ask me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114227975330644087?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114227975330644087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114227975330644087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114227975330644087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114227975330644087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/list.html' title='The list'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114219407464340366</id><published>2006-03-12T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T12:12:59.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet lightning and other storm stories</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2195.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2195.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2194.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2194.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There we were, the 3 of us, Emma, Neil and myself (Miles was already sawing logs as it was long past bedtime), laying on Emma's floor eagerly waiting for the next flash and crash of thunder.  "I saw that one, I saw that one!", Emma would scream each time.  It was such a sweet moment, lying there on her carpet with blankets and pillows, staring out the windows of her balcony doors, waiting and waiting.  We were all cozy on a cold wintry night.  Exhausted, Neil promptly fell asleep. I almost did, but was jolted awake every few minutes or so when Emma would yell with the lightning strikes.  How does he sleep through that?   Emma was way too excited to sleep, both from the storm and the fact that her parents were actually asleep on her floor.  She couldn't believe her luck.&lt;br /&gt;We've had all kinds of crazy weather around here lately - hail, thunder storms and snow, yes snow!  There was a picture in the paper of icy frost-like snow on the beach - wow, now I can't remember that happening since I was 5!&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we went with Emma and Miles' cousins up to the mountains to see that snow.  Not a ton left, but enough to make snowballs to throw at Pappi and uncle.  Love the way they always aim for the guys!   Today we're going back for more fun - hopefully we'll find a bit more this time since I noticed they closed the highway this morning.  Wow, we can't get out of here right now . . .luckily it's Sunday and there's no where to go but out to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114219407464340366?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114219407464340366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114219407464340366' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114219407464340366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114219407464340366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/sweet-lightning-and-other-storm.html' title='Sweet lightning and other storm stories'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114193977819214251</id><published>2006-03-09T12:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T13:29:38.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to work, mommy and hail to the nannies!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;O.M.G., I have a job again!  I can hardly type this I'm so excitetd!!  What can I say, I found myself missing work . . .well, at least the idea of having a job again, I'll weigh in again a month from now . . .anyway, I quit my job almost 2 years ago (2 years?!  Where did they go??) from a biotech tool company where I was a sales rep because I was a stress-case.  I wanted to spend more time with Emma, who I only have with me 1/2 of the time and I felt like I wasn't seeing her enough.  I was always feeling pulled in different directions and never feeling like I was doing very well at any of the things I was doing, be it parenting or working.  So darling Neil made it very clear that it would be A-OK for me to quit that silly job and stay home to have more time with Emma and raise our next little munchkin (said munchkin was at that point late as I was 2 miscarriages into trying).  And yes, I'm sure the double miscarriage led to my stress over working, because I had planned on quitting when I had our child and with those darned miscarriages, I kept getting farther away from that happening.  The light at the end of my tunnel kept getting stamped out by the miscarriage monster. &lt;br /&gt;Well, wouldn't you know it, 3 weeks after I quit my job (and my source of stress) I was pregnant!  I was so happy, but it did mean that it was a little silly to start a brand new job and then have to go out not 8 months later on leave - uh, er, at least that's what I rationalized at the time.  Anyway, I stopped working and lounged around during my entire pregnancy - it was GREAT!  Despite the fact that we were under FULL remodel at our house and I had very few spaces to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lounge&lt;/span&gt; around in, I would craftily carve out a spot for myself on the crowded living room couch (the only room in the house that wasn't being changed in some way .. .yet) and pass out into la-la-I'm pregnant-and-can-sleep-through-ANYTHING (including that damn jackhammer!)-land.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it was so great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Then Miles was born and I became busy busy with all that goes along with a new baby.  I was really loving having the uninterrupted time with him and Emma and will always look back fondly on that time.  During these first months of Miles' life, something else major happened in our life - the company Neil was working for was bought out and he was laid off.  Luckily he got a 4 month severance so he took some long-wanted time off.  It was so great, neither of us had a job.  We got to hang out whenever we wanted, do whatever we wanted (with caveat that we were new parents) and Neil was able to finish up all those loose ends from our remodel.   The other major event that occurred is that my sister-in-law let me know that she was going to be starting a company and would I like to be a part of it?  Um, hullo?  Would I like to be a part of it??  Let's just say that if she &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hadn't&lt;/span&gt; asked, that I would have begged her to let me be a part of what she was doing and then parked myself outside her offices until she caved.  Luckily, that wasn't necessary and she asked without the drama included.  Total excitement ensued and I began this new chapter of my life.  Well, at least I tried - it became very obvious to me very quickly that Miles was not as excited as I was about this new venture.  Every time I would try to work on my computer my little "helper" would try to bang away on my keyboard, or get into something dangerous, or just plain cry from lack of attention.  Hmmmpph, this is not going to work like this . . . but I soooo badly want to do this . . so what to do??  I brouught up hiring a nanny with N, but got some definite push-back from the "official bread-winner" of the family when he correctly pointed out that most people get nannies when they're actually generating a salary.  Okay, okay, small point, we're not made of money - but (like the toddler I am) I wahhhh-wahhhhh-wahhhhnt to do this! &lt;br /&gt;Luckily sister-in-law to the rescue with the nanny solution.  She already has Miles' cousins, her kids, with a nanny at her house, so I was able to hop on that bandwagon and I get to drop Miles there on my way into the office.  AND HERE I AM.  Tee hee.  Working again.  Have to say it's more than a little exciting.  Didn't think I'd be this fired up about working again, but this is the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;right&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kind of &lt;/span&gt;job, as opposed to the kind that sucks the life from you, offers little personal satisfaction, and erodes your spirit . . .&lt;br /&gt;oh, and how am I feeling about leaving Miles for the day?  Well, I'm only into day #2, but so far, so good.  It feels great to have some independece - an actual need, not just a want with me.  And he's in good hands, so I feel relaxed about that.  Actually, he's only a few minutes away, so when time permits, I'll go see him for lunch.  All in all, I think this is going to work . . .and it came just in time because N is now traveling every week and is no longer around to keep me company.  I can just see myself, sitting at home, no job, and feeling alllll alone,  wondering what my next move would be.  Now, I don't have to, thanks sis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/22617969-114193977819214251?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114193977819214251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114193977819214251' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114193977819214251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114193977819214251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/back-to-work-mommy-and-hail-to-nannies.html' title='Back to work, mommy and hail to the nannies!'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114184533788365135</id><published>2006-03-08T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T11:15:37.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I can sew . . .I think</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_1940.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_1940.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_1087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_1087.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The other night my dear friend Karen (giver of name, Mimi) was kind enough to come over and hang out with me and the kids.  She kept us company AND taught my lame self to sew Miles' curtains that I've been meaning to finish for oh, say a year now.  She is the bomb - not only does she sew, but is a wonderful cook, an expert knitter (see cute sweaters on emma and miles),  brilliant science-gal and Emma loves her to no end (big surprise).  The last time she was at our house Emma talked her into letting her sleep with her . . .but on this visit, she was satisfied with merely monopolizing her time.  Emma kept thinking of reasons to lure Karen to her room for more one-on-one time, very cute.&lt;br /&gt;An-nee-way, I've been really lame about trying out that sewing machine that Neil gave me for mother's day last year (how fitting) so I finally decided to get the lead out and get this project finished.  I can't look at Miles' empty window anymore . . .&lt;br /&gt;so Karen did the first one and last night, all alone after Miles went to bed, glass of wine in hand, music drifting from the ipod, I busted out 2 more.  I was SO proud of myself!  Wow, I sewed something and it didn't come out like complete crap - maybe just a little crooked here and there.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Karen, you've facilitated another mommy milestone.  Perhaps I'll make some clothes for my little clothes horse now . .  .  and then again, maybe that'll just have to wait until next year.  &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/22617969-114184533788365135?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114184533788365135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114184533788365135' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114184533788365135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114184533788365135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-can-sew-i-think.html' title='I can sew . . .I think'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114167478020567458</id><published>2006-03-06T11:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T12:11:30.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun and games with Pappi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/Emma_PartyHat.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Emma_PartyHat.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/PartyHat%21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/PartyHat%21.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2183.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2183.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2185.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2185.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When Emma was very young and Neil and I were first together, it occurred to me that he was a whoe lot better than me at inventing fun games that amused Emma to no end.  Case in point is Neil's invention of the "party hats!" game.  The game goes like this - you put something silly on your head and scream "party hat!" and make everyone around you wear one too and laugh, laugh, laugh.  It's amazing how the littlest things can be a source of amusement.&lt;br /&gt;One evening when Emma was little we were having a family dinner at our house and Emma persauded everyone to wear a diaper on their head - it was so funny!  All the adults, sitting their at our table with diapers on - where was my camera then??&lt;br /&gt;Neil is so great at coming up with these games but I'm going to have to step it up because he's out of town &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt; for 4 days.  Hmmph.  I knew he was going to have to travel for work with this new job, but the reality of it stinks.  I miss him and I miss having his funny antics around the house with the kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114167478020567458?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114167478020567458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114167478020567458' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114167478020567458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114167478020567458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/fun-and-games-with-pappi.html' title='Fun and games with Pappi'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114141988778790196</id><published>2006-03-03T12:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T13:10:28.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another wake up call at 3:30 am . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Arrgggh, is that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; necessary Miles?  Well, yes, it turns out it is.  I took Miles to the doc this morning to check and see if his ear infection had cleared up after taking a week of antibiotics - it's just not that normal for him to wake in the middle of the night screaming.  Anyway, turns out he's got fluid in his ears still - and the worst part about it?  There's nothing to be done!   After giving that grim &lt;a href="http://www.nidcd.nih.gov/health/hearing/otitismedia.htm#how"&gt;prognosis&lt;/a&gt; the doctor casually said, "oh, and he's probably not hearing anything right now because of the fluid."&lt;br /&gt;What?!  OMG, that's terrible!  Poor guy is looking at all of us move our mouths but only hearing little snipets or muffled tones.  And she was clear, "there's really nothing  you can do about it, you just have to wait for mother nature to clear it up.  Come back in a month and we'll check it again."&lt;br /&gt;A month??  That doesn't seem like  a good idea - how about a week?  And if it's still there you perscribe stronger antibiotics since the first round clearly didn't work?  Hmmph.  Not pleased with that outcome.&lt;br /&gt;I asked about using an antihistamine, but she said they don't work.  Hmmm?  I wonder if I should believe that or go ahead and try them anyway.  Sudafed was recommended to me before for clearing up fluid in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my &lt;/span&gt;ears - why wouldn't it work for Miles?&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, for now I've made an appointment for a month from now and am hoping that Miles' little ears get better.&lt;br /&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/22617969-114141988778790196?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114141988778790196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114141988778790196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114141988778790196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114141988778790196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/another-wake-up-call-at-330-am.html' title='Another wake up call at 3:30 am . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114126226644073415</id><published>2006-03-01T17:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T17:17:46.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, and did I mention . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/pianoman.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/pianoman.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;That I also play the piano?  Just a little something I've been working on .  . .Wi-ley Coyote, Genius.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114126226644073415?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114126226644073415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114126226644073415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114126226644073415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114126226644073415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/oh-and-did-i-mention.html' title='Oh, and did I mention . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114125734802509027</id><published>2006-03-01T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T15:56:56.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our latest tricks and fave passtimes . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2099.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/200/IMG_2099.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh to be 10 months . . .the world, your oyster . . .here's what Miles has been up to lately . . .according to him . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  "I'm gonna getcha!" game . . .mommy chases me down the hall, giggling all the way.  When she catches me it's all kisses and more giggles!&lt;br /&gt;2.  Crawl away from mommy, stop, turn and point at her and smile my biggest smile - I'm so talented!, repeat, repeat, repeat . ..&lt;br /&gt;3.  Look at mommy through the washing machine door .. .ooooh, she looks so weird, that makes me giggle again.&lt;br /&gt;4.  Crawl into sister's room: dismantle.&lt;br /&gt;5.  Attack sister while she's eating and try to steal her food.&lt;br /&gt;6.  Cry when I don't get my way, I'm bored, you take something away from me (albeit dangerous), I fall and bump my head (again), I can't get into something/somewhere, oh, just about whenever I GD feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;7.  Stick anything and everything into my mouth&lt;br /&gt;8.  Stand up and lean on anything that will support me and fall when it doesn't (good practice of #6).&lt;br /&gt;9.  Slapping my hands on said object once I'm standing in front of it - I'm so talented! (again).&lt;br /&gt;10.  Stealthy stair climber:  I wait until my mom turns her back and then bolt for those stairs!  Today I managed to climb all the way up the outside stairs in the back yard since they haven't gotten smart enough to install a gate yet .. .fools.&lt;br /&gt;11.  Do the side-step shuffle - I WILL walk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114125734802509027?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114125734802509027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114125734802509027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114125734802509027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114125734802509027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/03/our-latest-tricks-and-fave-passtimes.html' title='Our latest tricks and fave passtimes . . .'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114107574026789331</id><published>2006-02-27T13:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T13:29:00.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2 be or not to be 3, that is the question</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The current kid situation around our house is that we have Emma, 5, living with us 1/2 of the time and Miles, 10 months.  We've been pondering whether or not to have a third child, and it's not an easy decision to make.  On the one hand I'd really love for Miles to have a constant companion at home and I can already see the sadness on his face when he waves bye-bye to his big sister at dad's house.  But, on the other hand, a third child means a LOT more work for me.  AND N has taken a new job that requires a lot more travel and he will probably continue to have jobs with lots of travel in the future (just the nature of the biz he's in).  So, what to do?  There are so many great things about having a big family with lots of kids around - lots of action constantly, always someone to play with, lots of friends around eventually, warmth, joy and fun.  But, am I up to the task?  I really wonder this - am I cut out for raising so many kids??  I wonder.  I love being a parent, I really do, but I also want to do other things too.  I want alone time with my husband every now and again and I want alone time for myself.  Actually, I don't want it, I need it.  And I need outside stimulation too - a job of some sort to keep my brain active.&lt;br /&gt;I think the ideal situation for me would be to go ahead and have the third child, but to do it with some help from a nanny.  I offered this idea up to N who was initially put off by the idea - and then very annoyingly brought up examples of women who stay home with their 3 kids without help.  Fine!  Let them!  I'm not up to it though - that's not how I want things to turn out.  It doesn't feel right for me.  Mimi ain't rollin' that way . ..&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, he eventually came around to accepting that we could use the help.  In fact, the whole conversation turned out quite well because it resulted in us hiring a housecleaner.  Just like that, viola!  Love it!  So excited!  (this is another thing he was not crazy about initially ....).&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so we're all on board for some help from a nanny . . .but I'm still a little apprehensive . . .it probably has something to do with going through pregnancy all over again.  Arrrggh.  Not my idea of a good time.  The nausea, the tiredness, the aches and pains.  And I'm not getting any younger over here . . .each pregnancy is probably a little harder as we age (right, tell that to that 60 year old who just had a baby!).&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I really want to get some feedback from those who have 3 kids and how they managed from 2 to 3 and what the change was like.  I think I'll have to go out and get that feedback out in blog-o-land . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114107574026789331?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114107574026789331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114107574026789331' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114107574026789331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114107574026789331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/2-be-or-not-to-be-3-that-is-question.html' title='2 be or not to be 3, that is the question'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114107441513778831</id><published>2006-02-27T13:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T13:06:55.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pink eye</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Miles' pink eye is back . . .must be because his antibiotics are over and the infection was able to multiply again.  Already wishing I still had milk in my boobs to take care of it.  Bummer.  We have medicine for it, but the breast milk seemed to work so well and fast AND he didn't cry when I put it in as opposed to the medicine that makes him wail.  Poor guy.  He woke up last night screaming bloody murder at 1:45 and was up for an hour.  There's something going on that's hurting him because it was an "I'm in pain!" cry.  Poor thing, wish he could talk and tell me what's bothering him. &lt;br /&gt;Could be those teeth finally making an appearance?  Right . . .I am continually&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;getting a hard time from N about thinking Miles is teething.  So I thought it was starting when he was 4 months and there's still no teeth - ok, so I was wrong about 50-million times.  but this time.  . .I could be right . ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114107441513778831?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114107441513778831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114107441513778831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114107441513778831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114107441513778831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/pink-eye.html' title='Pink eye'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114084974640891407</id><published>2006-02-24T22:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T22:42:26.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wave bye-bye to the boobies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Well, for better or worse, I've officially stopped breastfeeding this week.  Miles is just shy of 10 months and he seems to have weaned himself right off of the boob.  I tried a couple of times this week offering him some, but he really wasn't interested for longer than a few seconds.  Perhaps that's because I discovered (after a frustrating pumping session with the pump I've borrowed and seem to have broken - it works &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;some&lt;/span&gt; of the time) that only a few measly drops of milk is left in those tired sacs of nothingness that used to be my lovely breasts . . .oh, the lament over what was. . .and what will never be again.&lt;br /&gt;I have a memory of being in my mom's bathroom/closet with her as a teenager while she was getting dressed.  I remember looking at her saggy boobs and thinking, wow, mom didn't get very nice boobs, glad I didn't suffer that fate! . . .ohhhhh boy, you just wait missy . . .the poor woman had had 5 kids.  count 'em, 5!  Can you imagine having 5 freakin' kids?  I just don't have the moral fiber, the fortitude to pull that off.  Apparently, she did.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I digress - back to the boob topic.  Okay, so she had saggy breasts, well, now, so do I.  Not such a big surprise really when you witness the gymnastic moves Miles made with my nipple in his mouth, or the constant pulling and stretching that occurred.  I tried to have a sit-me-down with him about it, but the message just didn't get through.  He was all over the place while feeding.&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit, I'm a little sad about not having that ultra closeness with Miles now.  And then again, I'm also feeling glad to be done with it.  For one thing, I now get to start using that toxic anti-wrinkle cream that I bought long ago only to find out that you're not supposed to use it while breastfeeding . . .makes you wonder, doesn't it?  And another thing is that I enjoy the space of not having to be responsible for Miles' sustenance.  I do have a small irresponsibility streak left in me (altho totally suppressed at this stage of the parenting game) and finishing up the breastfeeding marks a small victory for that streak.  Kind of makes me want to go on a crazy cosmo, shopping, dancing rampage . . .like I've just gotten back a tiny speck of my L.B.K.s (life-before-kids).&lt;br /&gt;Miles doesn't seem the worse for wear . . .seems as happy as ever . . .so the mom-guilt needle is still in the green zone . . .for now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114084974640891407?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114084974640891407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114084974640891407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114084974640891407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114084974640891407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/wave-bye-bye-to-boobies.html' title='Wave bye-bye to the boobies'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114084734962378501</id><published>2006-02-24T21:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T22:03:44.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When they offer to help you take your groceries out to your car, take it</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You know, I don't know why I always used to decline this simple service.  They would offer, "would you like help out to your car today (with this massive pile of groceries)" and I would gallantly say, "oh, no thanks, I've got it! (with two kids in tow . . .)"  What &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; I thinking?  Perhaps I didn't want to endure the awkward silence between myself and the bagger, or worse yet, suffer the idle chit-chat about the weather - sometimes I'm just not in the mood for chit-chat.  But you know what?  It's all worth it!  Take the help!  It is so much easier to have the help because 1) you get to put your kids in their car seats while they're loading your groceries into the back and 2) they take the cart away for you so you don't have to juggle leaving  your kids in the car without you (or dragging them back to the least conspicuous spot to abandon the cart).  Hello, what was I thinking?  Duhhhh.  I'm now thinking of all the meaningless things I can talk about on my next shopping trip . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114084734962378501?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114084734962378501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114084734962378501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114084734962378501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114084734962378501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/when-they-offer-to-help-you-take-your.html' title='When they offer to help you take your groceries out to your car, take it'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114075762324116180</id><published>2006-02-23T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T13:30:40.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When my husband is away I eat like a college student</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Why is that?  When Neil is here I'm making breakfast, lunch and dinner sometimes (or combinations of at least 2 of those) - and gladly - I like cooking.  I like thinking of making things, I don't even mind shopping . . .but as soon as he walks out that door - it all ceases.  Here's what I ate today:&lt;br /&gt;breakfast:  Pria bar on the way to Miles' music class, then coffee afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;lunch: banana, then healthfood version of pop tarts, salad (in that order)&lt;br /&gt;dinner: cheese and crackers at 9 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that he's traveling all the time for his new job I'll probably gain the freshman 15, start breaking out and generally look like crap.  oh well.&lt;br /&gt;that reminds me...his plane is landing any minute so I better get in the shower so I look like I've had one since he left 3 days ago .  . . I have to say that I am excited to see him - I think this traveling thing is going to be good for our marriage to some extent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114075762324116180?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114075762324116180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114075762324116180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114075762324116180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114075762324116180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/when-my-husband-is-away-i-eat-like.html' title='When my husband is away I eat like a college student'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114067585940281573</id><published>2006-02-22T22:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T22:24:19.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aarrrggghhh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hating life today . . .a touch of the stomach flu or some such thing.  Hubby has flown the coop to start that new job - whatever - so it's me and Mr. Miles solo.  I was just tap-tap-tapping my foot waiting for him to get tired enough to go to sleep tonight so I could curl up in my bed and moan.  Luckily, he was down at 7:15 as per usual and I'm left alone to lick my wounds.  Hoping tomorrow is a better day . .  .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114067585940281573?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114067585940281573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114067585940281573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114067585940281573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114067585940281573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/aarrrggghhh.html' title='Aarrrggghhh'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114067510997153980</id><published>2006-02-22T22:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T22:11:49.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Technorati</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://technorati.com/claim/"&gt;Technorati Profile&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114067510997153980?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114067510997153980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114067510997153980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114067510997153980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114067510997153980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/technorati.html' title='Technorati'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114058743368828829</id><published>2006-02-21T21:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T21:50:33.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oooooh, gross!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Okay, let me just say that sometimes being a parent tests your limits of what you can handle - big time.  Tonight I experienced a totally nasty kid moment . . .and it goes like this:  Emma was taking a bath getting ready to go to her dad's house and Miles started throwing a hissy-fit about getting in with her.  He loves to take baths so I thought, what the hell, I'll let him get in with her and just deal with the fact that I'm going to have to hold on to his slippery little body for dear life the entire time - no stress there.  An-nee-way, he gets in, proceeds to splash all over the place and gets me all wet - oh what fun I'm having!  Once Emma was all shampooed, etc I pulled the little splash machine out of the water and dried him off.  I put him down in his room with Emma to play a bit while I got his pjs out of the laundry room.  When I came back the little devil had crawled buck naked all the way down the hall to Emma's room (following her of course).  So I walked down the hall towards the room.  When I opened the door, what did I find?  None other than a disgusting pool of diarrhea on her lovely butterfly rug - eeewwww!  Oh why, oh why did that have to happen?  Not only was that yucky pool of gunk on Emma's cute butterfly rug but it was also strewn across the floor where my little olympic crawler had recently been.  Oh stop.  This has got to be a bad dream.  This required immediate and quick action.  Back for bath #2 and then diapered that butt pronto!  I had to close Emma's door because he kept trying to go back in there and play.  I put him in his room with Emma to play which of course made him scream.  So he's screaming and I'm cleaning up crap on my hands and knees.&lt;br /&gt;I know there's a reason I had kids somewhere . . .anyone?  anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114058743368828829?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114058743368828829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114058743368828829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114058743368828829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114058743368828829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/oooooh-gross.html' title='Oooooh, gross!'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114055551560690788</id><published>2006-02-21T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T12:58:35.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Last sublime day in Big Sur</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2147.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2147.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2142.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2142.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2127.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2127.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, it had to end sometime, this neverending vacation for N.  Luckily the weather was perfect yesterday so we loaded up the kids and drove to Big Sur for a hike.   It was so beautiful there, the sun was shining and the flowers were just starting to bloom.  Emma did a great job of hiking and Miles was co-pilot in the pack.&lt;br /&gt;Of course hiking with kids can't really be called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hiking&lt;/span&gt; it's more like walk a bit, stop to make wardrobe change, walk a bit, feed someone, walk a bit, get stickers out of shoe, walk a bit, pick flowers.  .. etc.  It's a different experience entirely and I wouldn't miss it.&lt;br /&gt;These pictures were taken after Emma and I fumbled the camera and it dropped right on its lens - ooops.  It was a little cockeyed for a minute but I managed to fix it and voila!  it was working again.   Good thing too b/c N was right there watching the whole thing shaking his head. . .so I tend to trust Emma with breakables . ..what can I say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114055551560690788?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114055551560690788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114055551560690788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114055551560690788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114055551560690788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/last-sublime-day-in-big-sur.html' title='Last sublime day in Big Sur'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114041766662710282</id><published>2006-02-19T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T08:49:05.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And then, the perfect weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/DSC00063.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/DSC00063.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we are in the final hours of Neil's freedom as a non-working stiff, so to celebrate our last unharried time together, we spent a night in San Francisco this past weekend.  I can't tell you how excited I was when Neil's mom called to offer to watch Miles overnight so that we could get away - oh.my.god., Mimi just might see the light of day after all.  I was salivating during the call and immediately began planning after I hung up . . .oh yes, indeed, we would be taking grandma up on her offer (Emma was at her dad's for the weekend).   We  left Saturday afternoon, saw snow on the summit of hwy 17 (a rarity in these parts) and dropped the wee one off at Neil's parent's house in SJ.  We arrived in SF around 5ish, checked in and headed out to get hubby a couple of new suits and ties.  After that, I was famished - Mimi needed a cocktail to refuel.  Off to the &lt;a href="http://www.harrydenton.com/homepage.htm"&gt;Startlight Room&lt;/a&gt; for a lovely cosmo and view.  Now that's a cosmo, Mimi was very pleased, Cointreau, standard, no need to ask.  But where to have dinner?  This is not the easiest question to answer when you're in San Fransisco, home of what I consider the best food available anywhere, and you've only got ONE night to get it right - decisions, decisions!  So we started walking around trying to find some obscure little alleyway that N had been to during Bastille Day years ago (undoubtedly not with all of his wits about him) . .. ah-hem, where did you say that was??  Okay, we're clearly not finding the place, it's getting on to 10 pm here . . .we're hungry as all get out so let's bag it and head to North Beach where wer'e gauranteed to find something open and good.  Solved.  Found a romantic little place, got the window seat, candles, yummy food and all was well. But that was it for these parents of two . . .had to head back to the sanctuary of bed at that point - we are over 35 afterall.  Mimi has her limits.&lt;br /&gt;Let's talk about how nice it was to SLEEP IN.  Oh my, now that was nice.  Even though we didn't sleep in that late - it was just having the option to do so that was so delicious.  We eventually got ourselves up and out the door and had breakie at the &lt;a href="http://www.sfstation.com/business.php?blId=1160"&gt;Squat and Gobble&lt;/a&gt; which was totally yummy.  Then N suggested that we see the new &lt;a href="http://www.thinker.org/deyoung/index.asp"&gt;de Young. in Golden Gate park.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was amazing - it reminds me of something out of Planet of the Apes - an oxidized iron beamouth shooting out of the ground.  The place is huge inside and we took a trip up to the tower to take in the view of SF which was very dramatic.  After that, we were pooped.  Time to head to Palo Alto for our weekly soccer games and then back to pick up the wee one from Grandma and Granpas.&lt;br /&gt;What a weekend!  So great to get out and have some time to ourselves and see the peeps.  I think I just added 5 years to my life, no joke.  AND I scored a goal in my game - a cherry on the top of my already perfect weekend . . .mimi was very pleased.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114041766662710282?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114041766662710282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114041766662710282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114041766662710282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114041766662710282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/and-then-perfect-weekend.html' title='And then, the perfect weekend'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114023514496549288</id><published>2006-02-17T19:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T19:59:04.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emma's tower and garden party</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2109.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2111.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2111.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The other day I thought I heard the pitter-patter of little feet in the kitchen, then a quiet opening of the pantry door and then silence again . . .hmmm, what was that all about I wondered? About a half hour later, I had one excited daughter on my hands - "come see what I made mommy!"  Wow, I was really surprised - you just never know what your kids are going to come up with.  Emma had taken all of our plastic cups (leftover from some long forgotten summer party) and stacked them like a little fortress around her laundry basket with all of her stuffed animals on it.  Not typical behavior from her - interesting and random. &lt;br /&gt;Later that day we got out and enjoyed the sunshine and did a little gardening.  Emma, the ever fashionable gardner, was in charge of dropping the seeds into the holes.   These would be the seeds that are now frozen over in this rare freezing storm that has brought snow to the nearby mountains.  Oh well, we'll just repeat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114023514496549288?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114023514496549288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114023514496549288' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114023514496549288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114023514496549288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/emmas-tower-and-garden-party.html' title='Emma&apos;s tower and garden party'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22617969.post-114021237756948474</id><published>2006-02-17T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T13:39:37.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2 three-hour naps and 2 lattes later . . .she lives</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/1600/IMG_2086.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/IMG_2086.1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morning came much, much too soon today . . .it's my fault partly, and partly the doing of my little sidekick to the left, Miles. I stayed up too late (occupational hazzard as a mom of two) and then was rocked out of bed at 3:30 am by Mr. M with crying - no, make that yelling. If only he could talk - "get in here biatch, I want to play!" What's the deal with that?? It's 3:30 am, I mean, come on. Okay, so you have an ear infection - but the antibiotics should be kicking in by now and you havne't even complained once about that pain as of yet. An-nee-way, I stumbled into his room and found him standing in his crib (it's all about being a bi-ped these days) with a jinormous smile on his face - victory, it seems, was his. He knew he had won. So I picked him up and took him downstairs for a little bottle and Tylenol nightcap. He was fired up was all set to play the suck-on-mommy's-face-until-she-laughs game. Really is cute, hard to be upset when they act so darned cute. Good thing babies are so cute, lest they end up on the front porch to work it out themselves . . .&lt;br /&gt;so, I finally get him back to sleep an hour and a half later only to woken up by him again not 3 hours later. . .oi vey. Play time again mommy! Big smiles. Okay, here we go again. Hubby would have kicked in for sure, but today he started his new job and he was on the phone when the little devil awoke again. Can't really ask him to end his conference call on account of his baby crying . . .wouldn't really do - although don't think it didn't cross my mind.&lt;br /&gt;Tried to nap later, but no use - might as well just give in to the madness and start drinking coffee. How I loooove coffee, oh yes indeed. 2 cafe lattes later and starting to feel human again. Miles is, of course, napping like the baby he is . . .refueling for the next play session! Keep the lattes rolling . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22617969-114021237756948474?l=lifewithmimi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/feeds/114021237756948474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22617969&amp;postID=114021237756948474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114021237756948474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22617969/posts/default/114021237756948474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithmimi.blogspot.com/2006/02/2-three-hour-naps-and-2-lattes-later.html' title='2 three-hour naps and 2 lattes later . . .she lives'/><author><name>Mimimom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10057837894342161452</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7649/2302/320/Miles%20and%20Emma.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
