<?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-40904917666879861</id><updated>2012-02-03T20:21:40.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you serious?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-8529600740533820846</id><published>2011-06-03T23:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T23:43:20.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'>July 3rd</title><content type='html'>A year ago today I became a mother...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:00am&lt;br /&gt;I eat half a bagel&lt;br /&gt;7:00am&lt;br /&gt;Contractions start and are about 2 minutes apart.&lt;br /&gt;8:00am&lt;br /&gt;Contractions still 1.5 - 2 minutes apart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UzqIWsnC3Hc/TemoOgcVV8I/AAAAAAAAA8o/cyidgJm6ZJA/s1600/hospital++ds+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UzqIWsnC3Hc/TemoOgcVV8I/AAAAAAAAA8o/cyidgJm6ZJA/s200/hospital++ds+015.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;9:00am&lt;br /&gt;Contractions still 1.5 - 2 minutes apart&lt;br /&gt;10:00am&lt;br /&gt;Contractions still 1.5 - 2 minutes apart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This continues for a very long time. &amp;nbsp;I wasn't dilating so they gave me a foley bulb and told me that I should walk around a bit. &amp;nbsp;This was not easy and very messy. &amp;nbsp;I remember the nurse scolding me for getting blood all over the wires when I tried to get up to use the bathroom. &amp;nbsp;I started crying. &amp;nbsp; My amazing husband Ron told me that it wasn't my fault and I think he yelled at the nurse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:00pm&lt;br /&gt;When I ask for pain medication the nurse tells me that my contractions aren't strong enough... "You are only having medium contractions" &amp;nbsp;OK LADY BUT I'VE BEEN HAVING THEM EVERY ONE AND A HALF MINUTES FOR 8 HOURS AND I HAVEN'T EATEN!!! &amp;nbsp;(I get very cranky when I don't eat) &amp;nbsp;She also said that they wouldn't give me an epidural until we were committed to having the baby today. &amp;nbsp;WHY DO YOU THINK I'M HERE LADY!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:30pm&lt;br /&gt;The nurse gives in and sends in the anesthesiologist... let's call him jerk face. &amp;nbsp;And the fun begins! &amp;nbsp;I told him that I had scoliosis and he told me that it wouldn't be a problem. &amp;nbsp;Four tries later the jerk face finally gets the epidural in, but now my right leg is kicking uncontrollably. &amp;nbsp;No exaggeration, it was kicking from the knee down like someone was testing my reflexes. &amp;nbsp;My best friend the nurse finally said something to jerk face and his response was that he would try to fix it. &amp;nbsp;TRY!?! &amp;nbsp;At some point in time during this whole fiasco, my husband disappears. &amp;nbsp;I'm being jabbed in the spine repeatedly and my husband is feeling faint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:45pm&lt;br /&gt;They break my water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I could go on and on hour by hour, but the contractions stayed 2 minutes apart the rest of the day into the evening. &amp;nbsp;Every once in a while the doctor would come in and check my dilation. &amp;nbsp;At some point in time early evening I was 5 cm dilated but Lilla was very content where she was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:00pm&lt;br /&gt;12 hrs without food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-22t5OdZ7z88/TemoiGxTCwI/AAAAAAAAA8w/5glOSS8bxmo/s1600/0603102303-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-22t5OdZ7z88/TemoiGxTCwI/AAAAAAAAA8w/5glOSS8bxmo/s200/0603102303-01.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;10:00pm&lt;br /&gt;Ron and I begin to wonder if Lilla would be a June 4th baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:30pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-etheJbAh3uc/Temoiwg6XFI/AAAAAAAAA84/yNDNhzyy6ik/s1600/0603102321-00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-etheJbAh3uc/Temoiwg6XFI/AAAAAAAAA84/yNDNhzyy6ik/s200/0603102321-00.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Doctor comes in and tells me it's time to discuss c section. &amp;nbsp;Of course the OR's were both full and we would have to wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we finally got into the OR the doctor told me that my dilation had actually decreased... I didn't know that was possible. &amp;nbsp;Ron put on his funny scrubs, stood at my head and talked to me the whole time. &amp;nbsp;They strapped my arms down and I just remember shaking uncontrollably. &amp;nbsp;We smelled something burning and figured that meant that they started. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:26pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vZ4cP7dPhtQ/TemojMGfFRI/AAAAAAAAA88/NdRCi1sOlgo/s1600/0603102336-00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vZ4cP7dPhtQ/TemojMGfFRI/AAAAAAAAA88/NdRCi1sOlgo/s200/0603102336-00.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lilla is born! &amp;nbsp;I remember waiting to hear her cry... it felt like eternity. &amp;nbsp;Then there was this small little coo, or now that I know her, maybe it was a pout but certainly not a cry. &amp;nbsp;I didn't get a chance to hold my little girl or even see her because I started having severe chest pains and difficulty breathing. &amp;nbsp;I needed to vomit, but how do I do that when I'm strapped to a table? &amp;nbsp;I don't really remember a whole lot about the end of my surgery. &amp;nbsp;I do remember three people putting all of their weight on my rib cage to try to deliver the placenta, I remember throwing up a lot and having to aim for a small cup that they gave Ron to hold (he says I threw up in his face but I'm sure that's not true) &amp;nbsp;I remember my chest hurting so bad, not being able to breath and being pumped full of drugs to the point where I thought I was forgetting to breathe. &amp;nbsp;But the worst of all of it was that I remember thinking that I'd never get to hold my baby, and that she would never get to know me, or know how much I loved her. &amp;nbsp;At some point during all of this mess they rushed Ron out of the room. &amp;nbsp;He sat alone in our delivery room holding his brand new baby girl thinking that he was going to be a single father. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MmBzAMnD4Mc/TemorP8_iPI/AAAAAAAAA9A/z62im5Jo37k/s1600/0604100337-00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MmBzAMnD4Mc/TemorP8_iPI/AAAAAAAAA9A/z62im5Jo37k/s200/0604100337-00.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor decided to staple my incision because of all of the pain I was in and she could finish quicker. &amp;nbsp;They later told me that they thought I was just having deferred pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 4th 3:30am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0NpHkpLV8mM/Temorrc5FPI/AAAAAAAAA9E/LhGUrdNnPCA/s1600/0604101046-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0NpHkpLV8mM/Temorrc5FPI/AAAAAAAAA9E/LhGUrdNnPCA/s200/0604101046-01.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I finally get to meet and hold my precious little angel. &amp;nbsp;She was so perfect and to me she looked just like my mother. &amp;nbsp;I have rocked her to sleep almost every night of her life (the other ones were Ron's nights) and loved every minute of it. &amp;nbsp;She has changed my life and I feel very lucky to be her mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dGHp36W14Q8/TemosLz_LEI/AAAAAAAAA9M/L6cdg0VXRxE/s1600/0604101802-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dGHp36W14Q8/TemosLz_LEI/AAAAAAAAA9M/L6cdg0VXRxE/s320/0604101802-01.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Happy first birthday Lilla! &amp;nbsp;My little little&amp;nbsp;Lilla.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-8529600740533820846?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/8529600740533820846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=8529600740533820846' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/8529600740533820846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/8529600740533820846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2011/06/july-3rd.html' title='July 3rd'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UzqIWsnC3Hc/TemoOgcVV8I/AAAAAAAAA8o/cyidgJm6ZJA/s72-c/hospital++ds+015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-5401092987712871922</id><published>2011-06-02T08:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T08:00:08.315-04:00</updated><title type='text'>June 2nd</title><content type='html'>We started off the day celebrating my husband's birthday by going to Denny's, his favorite place to get breakfast. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;He got his free gram slam and I got a pancake puppy fudge sundae!!! &amp;nbsp;Hey, I was 9 months pregnant, don't judge me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z2rgU53bgAU/TeaGsWRPrSI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/ygmxYqPq1yg/s1600/hospital++ds+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z2rgU53bgAU/TeaGsWRPrSI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/ygmxYqPq1yg/s200/hospital++ds+010.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My husband left work to come home and pick me up. &amp;nbsp;He dropped me off at the nail salon and returned to work. &amp;nbsp;I got my nails done and had a pedicure trying not to think about what was ahead of me. &amp;nbsp;Naomi, my nail girl, told me I had the biggest feet she's ever seen and that I should take a picture to show Lilla what she put me through. &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o_jLg2SuFrM/TeaGrmPI2sI/AAAAAAAAA8M/K9qLZPvObcE/s1600/hospital++ds+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o_jLg2SuFrM/TeaGrmPI2sI/AAAAAAAAA8M/K9qLZPvObcE/s200/hospital++ds+009.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T-Vusv-fCE4/TeaGv5i8AgI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/N7rfKnNEmCU/s1600/hospital++ds+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We arrived at the hospital around 7:00pm and started to settle in. &amp;nbsp;They gave me something to "ripen" my cervix and something to help me sleep since the next day would probably be a long one. &amp;nbsp;Had I known what it would really be like, I would have taken two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T-Vusv-fCE4/TeaGv5i8AgI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/N7rfKnNEmCU/s1600/hospital++ds+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T-Vusv-fCE4/TeaGv5i8AgI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/N7rfKnNEmCU/s320/hospital++ds+012.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-5401092987712871922?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/5401092987712871922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=5401092987712871922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/5401092987712871922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/5401092987712871922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-2nd.html' title='June 2nd'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z2rgU53bgAU/TeaGsWRPrSI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/ygmxYqPq1yg/s72-c/hospital++ds+010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-7843052497883534942</id><published>2011-06-01T13:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T13:59:04.450-04:00</updated><title type='text'>June 1st</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VPGY371aN8M/TeZ8j74a5qI/AAAAAAAAA8I/kDvAS0QtDvA/s1600/0531101124-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VPGY371aN8M/TeZ8j74a5qI/AAAAAAAAA8I/kDvAS0QtDvA/s320/0531101124-01.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;May 31, 2010&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;A year ago today I was given a choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were sitting in the doctors office if you could call what I was doing sitting. &amp;nbsp;I was nine months pregnant, 1 week from my due date and felt like a bloated hippo. &amp;nbsp;They examined me (super fun) and said that it looked like she wasn't coming anytime soon. &amp;nbsp;Lilla had been a big baby from the beginning and they were concerned about me being able to deliver her. &amp;nbsp;The choice was between being induced, having the chance that it wouldn't work and have to have a c section or waiting until she was ready, having the possibility that she would be too big and have to have a c section anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We knew what we would choose before the words even came out of her mouth. &amp;nbsp;INDUCE!!! &amp;nbsp; We were scheduled to be admitted the next night and be induced the day after. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-7843052497883534942?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/7843052497883534942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=7843052497883534942' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/7843052497883534942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/7843052497883534942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-1st.html' title='June 1st'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VPGY371aN8M/TeZ8j74a5qI/AAAAAAAAA8I/kDvAS0QtDvA/s72-c/0531101124-01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-7377955865870375370</id><published>2011-04-06T17:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T17:33:14.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One in 30 Million</title><content type='html'>I know that all mothers think that their children are special, but my little Lilla is one in 30 million, or more&amp;nbsp;accurately,&amp;nbsp;according to the Office of Rare Diseases of the National Institutes of Health, less than 1 in 200,000 in the United States.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few weeks ago my special baby, who hardly ever cries and charms nearly everyone she meets with her charm and personality [just like daddy (not the crying part)] became very&amp;nbsp;irritable&amp;nbsp;and feverish. &amp;nbsp;She was diagnosed with a urinary tract infection and had to be hospitalized for 3 days to get antibiotics intravenously. &amp;nbsp;While at the hospital she had an ultrasound which showed a pocket of fluid that they thought could be a cyst. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday we met with the urologist and they confirmed that Lilla has a very rare condition called an urachal cyst. &amp;nbsp;I could be reading it wrong, but I found an article which says that this type of condition occurs in 1 out of 30 million births. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;When we are tiny little babies still in our mothers womb, we have umbilical cords. &amp;nbsp;The part of the umbilical cord that attaches our bladder to our soon to be bellybutton is called the urachus. &amp;nbsp;In most children, the urachus&amp;nbsp;disappears&amp;nbsp;before birth, but in less than 1 in 200,000, it doesn't. &amp;nbsp;Of those less than 1, 65% have discharge from the bellybutton and 35% have no discharge but show symptoms of lower abdominal pain, fever, pain with urination, urinary tract infection or hematuria.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Lilla is one of those 35%. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The urologist suggested surgery to remove the cyst and put Lilla on another antibiotic to keep any bacteria from growing in her urine beforehand. &amp;nbsp;Without surgery she is likely to have major problems with urinary tract infections and if not caught in time could cause more serious problems like kidney infections. &amp;nbsp;The doctor said that if she hadn't been hospitalized for the first infection they might want to just keep an eye on the cyst, but since she was hospitalized, it's best to just get it out of her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've scheduled the procedure for the middle of May and so I get a month of time to stress myself out and worry. &amp;nbsp;Of course I worry about the surgery itself and for the safety and well being of my only child, but I also worry about her being self conscious of the three scars that she will have, not being able to wear a bikini, or kids making fun of her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for the next month I will be trying to distract myself from my thoughts by snuggling and spoiling my favorite little human. &amp;nbsp;Statistically she might be 1 in 30 million, but to me she is the best daughter in ALL the world.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rIpm5WwZiKc/TZzcBMnUOBI/AAAAAAAAA7E/P2DyLCxebt0/s1600/April+2011+059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rIpm5WwZiKc/TZzcBMnUOBI/AAAAAAAAA7E/P2DyLCxebt0/s320/April+2011+059.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-7377955865870375370?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/7377955865870375370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=7377955865870375370' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/7377955865870375370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/7377955865870375370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2011/04/one-in-30-million.html' title='One in 30 Million'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rIpm5WwZiKc/TZzcBMnUOBI/AAAAAAAAA7E/P2DyLCxebt0/s72-c/April+2011+059.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-5854574994362039694</id><published>2010-12-24T20:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T22:38:51.324-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Eve</title><content type='html'>Tonight, we took Lilla to her very first candlelight Christmas Eve service. &amp;nbsp;Well, her first since she's been born anyway. &amp;nbsp;This is always such an emotional time for me as it was something that I did with my mother every year. She was such a Christmas freak. &amp;nbsp;As I sit in church holding my baby girl, I can hear my mom's voice singing very very loudly and joyfully. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today would also have been my father's 66th birthday. &amp;nbsp;Happy Birthday Daddy. &amp;nbsp;I hope that you get a real present for your birthday this year, instead of one of your Christmas gifts unwrapped and re wrapped in birthday paper. &amp;nbsp;Christmas isn't the same without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Christmas 1975 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TRVmMX_RXFI/AAAAAAAAAMs/ZvL04pYrT7M/s1600/img103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="245" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TRVmMX_RXFI/AAAAAAAAAMs/ZvL04pYrT7M/s320/img103.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;8 months pregnant &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-5854574994362039694?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/5854574994362039694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=5854574994362039694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/5854574994362039694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/5854574994362039694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-eve.html' title='Christmas Eve'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TRVmMX_RXFI/AAAAAAAAAMs/ZvL04pYrT7M/s72-c/img103.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-5291490396031231734</id><published>2010-11-19T22:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T22:35:47.731-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Cards...</title><content type='html'>Something that started as a bit of a joke, has now become one of our favorite family traditions...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If &amp;nbsp;you are one of the unfortunate that didn't get our very first Christmas card, you might have a bit of catching up to do to truly understand and appreciate any upcoming cards...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 2006; Ron and I were getting ready to fly to St Lucia to get married. &amp;nbsp;It was our first Christmas as a couple and for fun we decided that we would send out Christmas cards.&amp;nbsp; Since both my husband and I are a bit conceited, we decided to send out a picture card.&amp;nbsp; I logged into &lt;a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-cards"&gt;shutterfly.com&lt;/a&gt; and got started.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; As I was putting it together, I looked at Ron and asked, "What should we write on our very first Christmas card?" &amp;nbsp;His answer would become...&lt;br /&gt;(wait for it)...&lt;br /&gt;legendary...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1560263927"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1560263928"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TOc24WWbR-I/AAAAAAAAAL0/V4NHJr8jbxI/s1600/img121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TOc24WWbR-I/AAAAAAAAAL0/V4NHJr8jbxI/s320/img121.jpg" width="162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hope your holiday is as hot as we are!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;We didn't really think anything of it, but apparently, our card was a hit. &amp;nbsp;Our friend Jessie's parents started referring to us as the "Hot" couple and we got a bunch of emails from friends telling us they couldn't wait for next years card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh... the pressure! &amp;nbsp;Luckily, for 2007 we had a million great pictures to pick from due to having a wedding and reception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the conceit continues...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TOc238TtaVI/AAAAAAAAALw/wFE_PxuQ-IY/s1600/img120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="158" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TOc238TtaVI/AAAAAAAAALw/wFE_PxuQ-IY/s320/img120.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hope your holiday is half as happy as we are!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008, was not as easy. &amp;nbsp;We didn't really have any life changing events that year, so we decided to include our little furry children...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. don't forget the conceit... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TOc26bDwjyI/AAAAAAAAAL8/hUYwntQ4bio/s1600/img126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TOc26bDwjyI/AAAAAAAAAL8/hUYwntQ4bio/s320/img126.jpg" width="157" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hope your Christmas is as costumed as our canines!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; p.s. we're still hot!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, in 2009 we lost the conceit, showed off my growing belly and made my favorite Christmas card to date. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote in a previous blog that I dreamed of getting pregnant and having our Christmas card be our announcement. &amp;nbsp;Sadly, I was ill for three weeks starting the end of November and thought that we would not be able to get our card out in time. &amp;nbsp;But one evening Ron set up the camera, took our picture, logged onto&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href="http://shutterfly.com/"&gt;shutterfly.com&lt;/a&gt; and had our cards ready for pickup at Target the very next day!!! &lt;br /&gt;What a GREAT husband. &lt;br /&gt;And soon to be GREAT father...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TOc25erBGUI/AAAAAAAAAL4/seQ8wWA1pHw/s1600/img125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="154" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TOc25erBGUI/AAAAAAAAAL4/seQ8wWA1pHw/s320/img125.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hope your holiday is half as blessed as our growing family!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now that you're all caught up I hope that you will enjoy our 2010 card... coming soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-5291490396031231734?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/5291490396031231734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=5291490396031231734' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/5291490396031231734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/5291490396031231734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2010/11/christmas-cards.html' title='Christmas Cards...'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TOc24WWbR-I/AAAAAAAAAL0/V4NHJr8jbxI/s72-c/img121.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-8449214854993341724</id><published>2010-11-11T18:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T18:58:19.152-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy Daughter Time  :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Lately, my husband has been getting up with Lilla in the morning. &amp;nbsp;She has been going to bed before he gets home from work, so this is their daddy daughter time. &amp;nbsp;This morning, when I came downstairs, this is what I found...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="295" style="background-image: url(http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/2gyY8ZBN4Aw/hqdefault.jpg);" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2gyY8ZBN4Aw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2gyY8ZBN4Aw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-8449214854993341724?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/8449214854993341724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=8449214854993341724' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/8449214854993341724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/8449214854993341724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2010/11/daddy-daughter-time.html' title='Daddy Daughter Time  :)'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-4146173975997165003</id><published>2010-10-08T21:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T21:27:17.691-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, I'm not the mom I'd thought I'd be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year ago, we had just found out that we would be parents; it all seemed so unreal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me a long time to want to be a mother, part of me didn't think I would know how with not having my own mother to guide me. &amp;nbsp;Another part of me was so frightened of having to say goodbye to my child much too early like my own mother. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;This is usually a giant bonding time for mothers and daughters, and here I was being jipped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having Lilla here in my life has been too wonderful. &amp;nbsp;She is just the perfect little (okay not so little) baby. &amp;nbsp;She hardly ever cries and she is happy almost all of the time. &amp;nbsp;When you read baby books they tell you that babies like Lilla don't exist. But one of the biggest unforeseen things is how she has brought me so much closer to my own mother. Even though she is not here to guide me and tell me what I liked when I was little (okay not so little either), I feel like I have become her. &amp;nbsp;I can only hope to be a mother to Lilla like my mom was to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what prompted this? &amp;nbsp;I made my first batch of baby food today. &amp;nbsp;I steamed some butternut squash in our&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.beabausa.com/product-babycook.cfm"&gt;Beaba Babycook&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and as I was scooping it into little containers to freeze, I realized that a year ago, even 4 months ago, I never would have thought that I would be making my own baby food. &amp;nbsp;I am so not the mother I thought I'd be...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-4146173975997165003?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/4146173975997165003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=4146173975997165003' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/4146173975997165003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/4146173975997165003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2010/10/so-im-not-mom-id-thought-id-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-6925119348247429902</id><published>2010-09-27T23:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T23:39:57.313-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First Food</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;After a crazy week with Lilla eating, eating and eating some more, I started thinking about giving her some food. &amp;nbsp;We were planning on waiting until her four month appointment next week but after reading everything I could find I thought that maybe she was ready. &amp;nbsp;So, I mixed up a bit of cereal with some breast milk and grabbed a spoon. &amp;nbsp;I put the empty spoon up to her mouth and she opened it for me. The next time the spoon had some food in it and she rewarded me with one of her show stopping smiles. &amp;nbsp;I guess I wasn't fast enough for her because after a few bites she grabbed the spoon. &amp;nbsp;It was sooo cute, I had to take some pictures. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TKFhq3Jw6xI/AAAAAAAAALk/zGxGrKVTlJ4/s1600/september+2010+026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TKFhq3Jw6xI/AAAAAAAAALk/zGxGrKVTlJ4/s320/september+2010+026.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TKFhs8sH2GI/AAAAAAAAALo/JwtJL86AEIk/s1600/september+2010+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TKFhs8sH2GI/AAAAAAAAALo/JwtJL86AEIk/s320/september+2010+027.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-6925119348247429902?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/6925119348247429902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=6925119348247429902' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/6925119348247429902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/6925119348247429902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2010/09/first-food.html' title='First Food'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TKFhq3Jw6xI/AAAAAAAAALk/zGxGrKVTlJ4/s72-c/september+2010+026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-1894313442006617434</id><published>2010-06-09T20:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T20:36:19.700-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lilla's first bath</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TBAwE74ijmI/AAAAAAAAAK4/pyy9aPxHQqI/s1600/IMG_2448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TBAwE74ijmI/AAAAAAAAAK4/pyy9aPxHQqI/s320/IMG_2448.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Lilla had her first bath. &amp;nbsp;First, Ron put her in our Puj tub from Priscilla, Matt and Penny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then... she peed in it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least we knew it held fluid.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TBAwJwWxZtI/AAAAAAAAALA/0aniHYQ0mmQ/s1600/IMG_2447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TBAwJwWxZtI/AAAAAAAAALA/0aniHYQ0mmQ/s320/IMG_2447.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TBAyXMA4QCI/AAAAAAAAALI/qOBQGHMRtKI/s1600/IMG_2450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TBAyXMA4QCI/AAAAAAAAALI/qOBQGHMRtKI/s320/IMG_2450.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After she was all clean, her and daddy posed for a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love has such a different meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-1894313442006617434?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/1894313442006617434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=1894313442006617434' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/1894313442006617434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/1894313442006617434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2010/06/lillas-first-bath.html' title='Lilla&apos;s first bath'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/TBAwE74ijmI/AAAAAAAAAK4/pyy9aPxHQqI/s72-c/IMG_2448.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-886780190978687493</id><published>2009-12-16T01:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T21:29:28.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mommyhood Switch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SymWtq8EAkI/AAAAAAAAAKk/HRLx1GbCCaE/s1600-h/img071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SymWtq8EAkI/AAAAAAAAAKk/HRLx1GbCCaE/s320/img071.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So... I guess it's time to come out. I know that no one but Ron's family reads this blog, so I'm not really coming out, but at least its a start. The day we started talking about parenthood was also the day I started planning our Christmas card to announce it. I couldn't wait! Unfortunately, it looks like that isn't going to happen. 1st Ron was sick, then he had to go to DC for a Dance-O-Rama, now I'm sick. I haven't been out of my pj's in 11 days, and I am just a bit to insecure to send out a pic to 100 people of me in my pj's. Now, I think that we are pretty much out of time to get them printed and sent. Sorry everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been writing little blogs and notes every once in a while and not posting them because it was just too early to announce our pregnancy. So, maybe in time, I'll get to posting them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SymWwORNWWI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Zp9C0CClVSk/s1600-h/img070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SymWwORNWWI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Zp9C0CClVSk/s320/img070.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love going to my blog, hitting next blog and seeing what comes up. Since I've posted our baby ticker, all I've gotten are Mommy blogs with lots of baby tickers, infertility problems, and postings of newly born little ones. I realized that my little blog would probably change into that eventually too. So, I guess it's time... time to make the Mommyhood switch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-886780190978687493?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/886780190978687493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=886780190978687493' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/886780190978687493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/886780190978687493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2009/12/mommyhood-switch.html' title='The Mommyhood Switch'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SymWtq8EAkI/AAAAAAAAAKk/HRLx1GbCCaE/s72-c/img071.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-2024704801704813967</id><published>2008-10-26T08:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T09:52:41.445-04:00</updated><title type='text'>our home</title><content type='html'>Ron and I have been married for almost two years, and to look around our house (besides the 101 framed pictures of our wedding) you wouldn't know it. His contributions include clutter disguised as many various coffee making devises on the kitchen counter tops (which I am always trying to stuff into the cabinets because I hate a cluttered kitchen AND because I can probably count the number of times he's made coffee here on two hands), a big giant dust collecting elephant (which I've grown to love), a empty wooden crate that was once used to hold photo albums (which now holds a box of tissues), and lots, and lots, and lots, of clothes. I think that pretty much sums it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I bought this house about a year before Ron moved to PA, it was just me. I had help moving and painting, but everything else was just me. I changed all the electrical outlets and switches, put in a few dimmer switches and even my own light fixture. I put in a new faucet and water filter, even fixed a leaky pipe in the basement. After living here for a year the one thing I hadn't done was hang pictures on the walls. Ron loves to tell the story of his first weekend here in PA where he came over to my house with a friend to help me hang pictures on the bare walls after a year. &lt;em&gt;I guess it just takes me awhile to figure out where things belong.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now after two years of marriage, two new additions to our family, and being embarrassed countless times about the mess that is our house, I've made it my mission to make "my" house "our home".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I trudge down the steps to our basement, take a big breath (and a Claritin), push aside the big green sheet hanging from the ceiling, and stare at the countless cardboard boxes that my in-laws drove down in a &lt;a href="http://www.uhaul.com/"&gt;Uhaul&lt;/a&gt; from New Hampshire so many years ago. Going through the boxes I find even more various coffee making devises (ahhhh), more clothes (someone please help me), and BOOKS, boxes and boxes and boxes of books. Old books, new books, series of books, text books (my husband never went to college), french books (not books teaching french, books written in french, and he can't even speak french), cook books, children's books, Bibles (I think he has every version, in every language, in every color, ever published), if it has a cover and a spine, my husband owns it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hide all the various coffee making devises in a big plastic bin, force my husband to go through all of his clothes and shoes for Good Will, stuff everything else into those AMAZING &lt;a href="https://www.spacebag.com/spacebag"&gt;plastic space bags&lt;/a&gt;, fill every available shelf with BOOKS, and declare our new found need for some bookshelves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, remember ten pages ago when I mentioned that it takes me a long time to figure out where things belong? Well, I have a room in my house that, when Ron moved in had no furniture in it besides a giant couch that belongs in a mansion, a tiny little love seat that my parents bought when &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; got married and a desk that we only use to store more clutter. Ron and I go to &lt;a href="http://www.ikea.com/us/en"&gt;Ikea&lt;/a&gt; and purchase a couple of bookshelves. We get them home to discover that our original blueprint for where they would go didn't look right. After countless hours of deliberation, and even more countless times of moving all of the furniture (I just couldn't decide without seeing it), we trek back to Ikea for even more shelves, we put everything together and bring all of the books up from the basement (this was a two week project).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now... after living here for almost four years, the empty room that I just couldn't figure out what to do with, becomes the room that turns "my" house into "our home".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-2024704801704813967?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/2024704801704813967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=2024704801704813967' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/2024704801704813967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/2024704801704813967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/10/ron-and-i-have-been-married-for-almost.html' title='our home'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-86941695780110139</id><published>2008-08-16T00:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T00:22:36.659-04:00</updated><title type='text'>my greatest dissappointment</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SKelst8t2OI/AAAAAAAAAGk/xTDFLjCVuVU/s1600-h/orange.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235335279508576482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 264px" height="274" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SKelst8t2OI/AAAAAAAAAGk/xTDFLjCVuVU/s320/orange.jpg" width="249" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; When I was a little girl, I had these great neighbors, Bill and Ida and I spent alot of time over at their house. Ida had this adorable little mini orange tree in her kitchen window. She would pick the oranges for me to put in my homemade iced tea. For as long as I can remember, I wanted that too... a little mini orange tree in my kitchen window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So... when I bought this house three years ago, I also bought myself a little gift, my own mini orange tree. I actually had to order it online because i didn't know where to find one. Anyway, I was so excited, because I had windows that overlooked my kitchen sink, just like Ida's and couldn't wait to put my tree there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the tree came, it looked nothing like Ida's. It was small and didn't have any oranges, but that's understandable. So, I put my little mini orange tree in a pot, and admired it everyday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SKel6SaYtJI/AAAAAAAAAGs/q5Wi7yNHDtw/s1600-h/IMG_1755.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235335512634995858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="269" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SKel6SaYtJI/AAAAAAAAAGs/q5Wi7yNHDtw/s320/IMG_1755.JPG" width="215" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A couple of months later, I still had no oranges, so I started asking around. Some people told me that it takes about a year for the plant to grow fruit, and some (very wonderful) people gave me citrus plant food to help. So I continued to feed my tree and watch it grow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been three, almost four long years, and STILL no oranges. I have tried everything... well almost. (this is where you guys come in)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sick of my husband making fun of my little mini orange tree because it doesn't have any oranges. So... I know this is a little silly, but I thought that if everyone who reads this blog said a little prayer for my little tree, that maybe... just maybe, it could fulfill it's purpose as a fruiting plant, and no longer be my greatest dissappointment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-86941695780110139?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/86941695780110139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=86941695780110139' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/86941695780110139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/86941695780110139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-greatest-dissappointment.html' title='my greatest dissappointment'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SKelst8t2OI/AAAAAAAAAGk/xTDFLjCVuVU/s72-c/orange.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-3790004907575471745</id><published>2008-08-14T01:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T02:30:44.995-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Cross Buns</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SKPI0fHkIeI/AAAAAAAAAGc/GCT_ULhV3WE/s1600-h/IMG_1714.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234247995966628322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="276" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SKPI0fHkIeI/AAAAAAAAAGc/GCT_ULhV3WE/s320/IMG_1714.JPG" width="196" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have the best husband in the world.   Not only do i get this view from my bathroom window, but I get to wake up to this every morning.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will leave you with this tonight because I believe that this picture speaks for itself.  Oww!Oww!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-3790004907575471745?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/3790004907575471745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=3790004907575471745' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/3790004907575471745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/3790004907575471745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/08/hot-cross-buns.html' title='Hot Cross Buns'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SKPI0fHkIeI/AAAAAAAAAGc/GCT_ULhV3WE/s72-c/IMG_1714.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-772519126885804260</id><published>2008-08-13T00:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T01:36:29.940-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Worry Be Happy!</title><content type='html'>Today I had a very special visitor at work that made my day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been very fortunate to meet lots of really cool people in the course of my life.  Just last week Jenn &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; me that my favorite teacher from college was in dance magazine.  A lot of the people that I graduated with have gone on to be in movies (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;austin&lt;/span&gt; powers and girl interrupted), &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; shows (amazing race, law and order &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;svu&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;fanta&lt;/span&gt; commercials), and even dance with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;madonna&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;jennifer&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;lopez&lt;/span&gt; on their tours.  I've had dinner with the 12 time world &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;latin&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;american&lt;/span&gt; champions.  When I was younger, I stood beside Brooke Shields in a jazz class in NYC... (say it with me guys)... I hate that bitch... she kicked me!  (if you don't know that story, you haven't known me long).   I even got to teach one of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Phillies&lt;/span&gt; players how to salsa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my most favorite is getting to teach Bobby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;McFerrin&lt;/span&gt; and his wife dancing lessons.  They are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; much fun and truly a wonderful couple.  I only get to see them in spurts because he travels a lot, but today he stopped by the studio to say hi and bring me a cookie.  How cool is that!?!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW... just what a girl needs to reverse all of the negativity that has been thrown my way these past couple of weeks.   So thanks Bobby, not just for the chocolate chip sugar rush today, but for reminding me that's it's couples like you that make me love what I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-772519126885804260?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/772519126885804260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=772519126885804260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/772519126885804260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/772519126885804260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/08/dont-worry-be-happy.html' title='Don&apos;t Worry Be Happy!'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-621986232695579367</id><published>2008-08-10T23:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T00:06:28.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Olympics</title><content type='html'>As I watch the Olympics today and find myself routing for the USA team, especially when other countries say they are going to crush them, I think about our triumph this week and how we just blew our competitors out of the water, or off the dance floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arthur Murray is having a world wide contest called the All Star Competition, and there are 4 different levels of testing.  We had our 2nd testing this past friday.  Katy and I were both uncontested (I wasn't supposed to be, so you can just imagine my neuroticness the days before).  Rafael was competing against 1 other and Ron 4 others.  We all made it to the next level!!!  How exciting!!!  well, for everyone else... I was looking forward to loosing.  40% of the test is written and 60% simulation.  I HATE talking in front of people.  If you are surprised by this, obviously you haven't read my last blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had so many difficulties lately that it was so nice to have something so positive happen to our whole team.    &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;GO NARBERTH!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-621986232695579367?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/621986232695579367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=621986232695579367' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/621986232695579367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/621986232695579367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/08/our-olympics.html' title='Our Olympics'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-5438515001148775461</id><published>2008-08-08T01:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T01:53:20.618-04:00</updated><title type='text'>HEY!!!</title><content type='html'>I would like to set the record straight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am NOT a public speaker!!!  I will NEVER be a public speaker!!!  I do not WANT to be a public speaker!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-5438515001148775461?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/5438515001148775461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=5438515001148775461' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/5438515001148775461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/5438515001148775461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/08/hey.html' title='HEY!!!'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-2501096899654109079</id><published>2008-08-03T23:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T05:13:38.734-05:00</updated><title type='text'>walk in the park</title><content type='html'>Ron told me that we could do anything I wanted this weekend, and I wanted to go for a little walk with my husband and my puppies. So we drove up to Valley Forge National Park, picked up a map and took our babies for a stroll. Our first stop, the Muhlenberg Brigade, where they made some models of the log homes that were built back in 1777. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SJZ_vixayQI/AAAAAAAAAGE/HtCFGFQUm9I/s1600-h/IMG_1725.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230508472002070786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 140px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 92px" height="113" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SJZ_vixayQI/AAAAAAAAAGE/HtCFGFQUm9I/s200/IMG_1725.JPG" width="158" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SJaAMUCrQcI/AAAAAAAAAGM/NElWdZCALpw/s1600-h/IMG_1742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230508966264127938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 95px" height="104" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SJaAMUCrQcI/AAAAAAAAAGM/NElWdZCALpw/s200/IMG_1742.JPG" width="153" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next was the National Memorial Arch, and then the General Wayne Statue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SJaBS53GoII/AAAAAAAAAGU/E147zHSokw8/s1600-h/IMG_1736.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All along the way were deer with their fawn that stood 5 feet away from us, not even bothered by our presence or picture taking. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SJaBS53GoII/AAAAAAAAAGU/E147zHSokw8/s1600-h/IMG_1736.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230510179006980226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 157px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 113px" height="197" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SJaBS53GoII/AAAAAAAAAGU/E147zHSokw8/s320/IMG_1736.JPG" width="282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Three hours and 7 miles later we finally found ourselves back at the car; we were all very tired and very thirsty. This will probably be the last time I'm allowed to pick our Saturday actives. &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SJaBS53GoII/AAAAAAAAAGU/E147zHSokw8/s1600-h/IMG_1736.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-2501096899654109079?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/2501096899654109079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=2501096899654109079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/2501096899654109079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/2501096899654109079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/08/walk-in-park.html' title='walk in the park'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SJZ_vixayQI/AAAAAAAAAGE/HtCFGFQUm9I/s72-c/IMG_1725.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-7117897444631826301</id><published>2008-07-31T01:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T02:12:54.578-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have an empty bucket</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Have you ever felt like no matter what you do, nothing works? So much to the point where you wonder if you were ever good at what you do, or if all of your successes were just luck? Today was just another wonderful day to add to the two super crappy weeks that I've had at work. Sometimes we give so much of ourselves, and put so much energy into people who just turn around make you feel like you can do nothing right or that you are not good enough. Tonight I took all of the negativity that was given to me and I passed it on to everyone else on my team. I am writing this to remind myself that I feel even worse now that I have made all those around me feel just as worthless as others have made me feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously people... stop stealing from my bucket! But no matter how many people dip from my bucket... tomorrow, I'm gonna fill lots of buckets up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-7117897444631826301?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/7117897444631826301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=7117897444631826301' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/7117897444631826301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/7117897444631826301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/07/have-you-ever-felt-like-no-matter-what.html' title='I have an empty bucket'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-7595923132117592600</id><published>2008-07-13T21:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T05:13:39.004-05:00</updated><title type='text'>NYC</title><content type='html'>As Ron and I walked the streets of New York this weekend, it was hard for me to believe that just a couple of weeks before, we were there with our students for a VERY stressful and difficult competition. We decided to go into the city a new way. We drove to Hamilton, NJ and took NJ Transit. WOW... how non-stressful. This was by far the easiest trip to NYC that I've ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked around the 5th ave area and strolled around Central Park, we even discovered a little Argentine Tango group dancing in the middle of the park... how fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SHqr46xk4lI/AAAAAAAAAF8/L_zI6lGwKvw/s1600-h/IMG_1707.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222675712227730002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SHqr46xk4lI/AAAAAAAAAF8/L_zI6lGwKvw/s320/IMG_1707.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our whole reason for making this trip was for Ron's birthday present, tickets to see Joel McHale, who is the host of one of his favorite TV shows, "The Soup". The show was GREAT!!! We both had so much fun, and we got to hear Joel make fun of Tyra, and Ryan Seacrest... priceless!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love spending time with my husband, we can do nothing together and we still have fun. He's the best. He cooked me stir fry tonight and even indulged me in two games of croquette... how did I get so lucky...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-7595923132117592600?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/7595923132117592600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=7595923132117592600' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/7595923132117592600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/7595923132117592600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/07/as-ron-and-i-walked-streets-of-new-york.html' title='NYC'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SHqr46xk4lI/AAAAAAAAAF8/L_zI6lGwKvw/s72-c/IMG_1707.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-3404509666014562001</id><published>2008-07-06T19:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T05:13:39.377-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thoughts on a vacation</title><content type='html'>Going away for a week with my husband and puppies made for a pretty hectic week. We left on Saturday for Rhode Island, spent the night there and in the morning headed off to Cape Cod for a couple of days, then off to New Hampshire for a couple of days, with small stops in Plymouth and Boston. Then we spent 7 hours driving to Atlantic City and then finally back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a vacation of firsts for me... my first time in Rhode Island and Cape Cod, first time visiting the Mayflower and Plymouth Rock, the first time taking my babies on the beach and crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SHF1g00XAZI/AAAAAAAAAFs/i5G94g8sikw/s1600-h/IMG_1659.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220082649893634450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SHF1g00XAZI/AAAAAAAAAFs/i5G94g8sikw/s320/IMG_1659.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to say that watching my puppies on the beach was one of my favorite parts of our vacation. They had a blast running up and down the shore with their daddy. And seeing them all covered in sand after their fun day of digging and rolling in the sand was just adorable! It also made for some uncomfortable sand in our bed at night, but oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SHF3mW9A6DI/AAAAAAAAAF0/texKEt8z4Mk/s1600-h/IMG_1690.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220084943979341874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SHF3mW9A6DI/AAAAAAAAAF0/texKEt8z4Mk/s320/IMG_1690.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My favorite day was our day on the beach with Rachelle and her boys. This was our only day of good sun during the whole trip and it was so much fun watching Ron play with his two nephews in the water. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also was elated to have Priscilla and Matt come and visit us while we were in Cape Cod. It seems like forever since we've seen them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-3404509666014562001?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/3404509666014562001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=3404509666014562001' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/3404509666014562001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/3404509666014562001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/07/thoughts-on-vacation.html' title='thoughts on a vacation'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XDTHcABOF5s/SHF1g00XAZI/AAAAAAAAAFs/i5G94g8sikw/s72-c/IMG_1659.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40904917666879861.post-8999885607889339591</id><published>2008-06-04T07:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T08:33:59.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a bigger bed!!!</title><content type='html'>Wow... what a dumb way to start. Of all the things I thought I might write about, right now after 3 hours of sleep, this is it. Ron and I are not exceptionally large people, but we do not fit into a king size bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first got married we had a full bed, which was nice... you know the whole &lt;em&gt;just married&lt;/em&gt; thing. But then Utah decided to take up a quarter (&lt;em&gt;that's .25, 1/4, or 25%&lt;/em&gt;) of the bed by sleeping sideways. After a couple of months of listening to Ron complain that my cat and I were pushing him off the bed, we decided to upgrade. We now have a king size bed that is big enough to sleep a whole touch football team, but not big enough for our little family. Ron is comfortable on his half (&lt;em&gt;that's .50, 1/2 or 50%&lt;/em&gt;), and here I am on my side with Gabanna on one side, Dolce on the other, both sleeping sideways, to the point where I have to sit up to roll over. Sometimes Gabanna will cozy up next to my back, which is totally adorable, but he'll be on top of the covers. Then Ron will get hot in the middle of the night and sleep on top of the covers as well and suddenly... I'm in a duvet cover straight jacket. I'm trapped from all sides, can hardly breath, crying out for someone to save me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This causes Dolce to wake up which means my time for sleep is over. If you've met her you know why, if not picture a 5 lb really cute, extra hyper energizer bunny. She will then go around with her wagging tail to every breathing body in the bed to let them know that she is ready to start her day by licking their faces, or any other body part she can find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I find myself awake at 5:00 in the morning, knowing not what to do with myself, completely bored of myspace, and in turn produce my first blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/40904917666879861-8999885607889339591?l=bobbitownsend.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/feeds/8999885607889339591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=40904917666879861&amp;postID=8999885607889339591' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/8999885607889339591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/40904917666879861/posts/default/8999885607889339591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bobbitownsend.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-need-bigger-bed.html' title='I need a bigger bed!!!'/><author><name>Bobbi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16362526010697112574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0AGhiplHCQc/TZzdMcEGnaI/AAAAAAAAA7I/SPzyiK3csk0/s220/April%2B2011%2B059.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
