<?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-7373217931154613726</id><updated>2012-01-31T17:18:44.067-08:00</updated><category term='change'/><category term='disc golf'/><category term='language delay'/><category term='Quillan'/><title type='text'>Blog Soup</title><subtitle type='html'>Mine</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>69</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-5719670881320221974</id><published>2010-01-14T16:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T16:42:28.585-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Practice makes perfect</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/S0-5tQ-QwmI/AAAAAAAAAPg/pSjvJj4K8X0/s1600-h/X+grinning.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/S0-5tQ-QwmI/AAAAAAAAAPg/pSjvJj4K8X0/s400/X+grinning.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426760263306101346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;X has been practicing how to smile in pictures without squinting. Here's an example of his progress so far. Cracks me up every time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-5719670881320221974?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/5719670881320221974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=5719670881320221974&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5719670881320221974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5719670881320221974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2010/01/practice-makes-perfect.html' title='Practice makes perfect'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/S0-5tQ-QwmI/AAAAAAAAAPg/pSjvJj4K8X0/s72-c/X+grinning.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-2762239582883968925</id><published>2010-01-14T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T13:04:55.483-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quillan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language delay'/><title type='text'>Expressive Language</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/S09_rb76FWI/AAAAAAAAAPY/XCdMxMXdEPo/s1600-h/Q+glasses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/S09_rb76FWI/AAAAAAAAAPY/XCdMxMXdEPo/s320/Q+glasses.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426696460214867298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Q will be 18 months at the end of January. I can't believe how quickly he's gone from being my little baby to being my little toddler. He's so amazingly sweet and loving. His hugs and drooly kisses are an absolute treat. He's developed well over the last 6 months since his last check up. He's incredibly tall and very "hefty". His teeth are almost all in and he uses them well, devouring all food in sight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is one part of his development which has been less on track - his expressive language. It has become painfully obvious that there is something not quite right. Everyone kept telling me he'll grow out of it, or that all kids develop differently, or that one day he'll wake up talking in sentences. But here we are at 18 months and he has yet to say Mama. Or even Ma. Or even a variation on that theme. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has a word though. UP. And he uses it in correct context.&lt;br /&gt;He can also say Dada, but not really with any context. He'll just repeat it to you if you tell him "Say Dada!" He has not used it in reference to his dada nor has he used it on his own without being asked to say it. &lt;br /&gt;He can also say "All Done" but it sounds like "Ah Duh". Also used in context. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is also unable to repeat many sounds you ask him to make. Specifically ones that contain consonants. He can make vowel sounds, with no problem. But slip a consonant in and he doesn't even try to emulate it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've really really really tried to not let this get to me. &lt;br /&gt;I have.&lt;br /&gt;But it just slays me. &lt;br /&gt;I find myself communicating with him on a level that is that of an infant even though he is a toddler. I know he understands most everything you say, but when he says nothing in return, I find myself saying less. And using more gestures. And facial expressions. I know I should be doing the exact opposite but it's been hard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was assessed for the delay when he was 12 months and tested at the level of a 15 month old for receptive language but at an 8 month level for expressive language. They've ruled out autism. But that's about all. So far, they've only been able to assess that he's behind - not why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They believe his hearing is fine, although I wonder sometimes how WELL he hears. I know he can hear, but is he hearing things as clearly as he could? I noticed something last night that I never really noticed before. His tonsils are HUGE. So huge that they almost touch in the back of his throat. So huge that they are about 3 times the size of Xaelen's tonsils. Could this mean something? I've scheduled an appointment with an Ear Nose &amp; Throat specialist for next month. Perhaps they could shed more light on it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I just plug along. I try and have him repeat words, sounds, syllables, anything - but he's just not that interested. I find myself sometimes wanting to cry. I feel like I've failed him somehow, but I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to be doing. With Xaelen, by 18 months, he was speaking in short sentences. He had an extensive vocabulary and repeated everything he heard. Quillan doesn't repeat anything. And his vocabulary I can count on one hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, all kids develop differently and maybe I need to just step back and enjoy him for all of his wonderful attributes. But it's hard. I'm his mother and I want him to be the best he can be. So I just continue down this path and I wait to see where it will lead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-2762239582883968925?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/2762239582883968925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=2762239582883968925&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2762239582883968925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2762239582883968925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2010/01/expressive-language.html' title='Expressive Language'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/S09_rb76FWI/AAAAAAAAAPY/XCdMxMXdEPo/s72-c/Q+glasses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-4656075116443561960</id><published>2010-01-13T11:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T12:28:00.263-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='disc golf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><title type='text'>Twenty Ten</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year, residents of the interweb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really quite elated that 2009 is over. It wasn't necessarily a bad year. &lt;br /&gt;I got to go to NY.&lt;br /&gt;I got a raise.&lt;br /&gt;I got a holiday bonus.&lt;br /&gt;My kids grew.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get divorced.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have a nervous breakdown. &lt;br /&gt;I lost some weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those were in no particular order, by the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But overall, this year was one I'd like to put behind me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a hard year. Financially, emotionally, mentally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT... coming out of this year in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;mostly&lt;/span&gt; one piece makes me feel like I can tackle almost anything. I do feel wiser. More creative perhaps and certainly more motivated to make positive changes in 2010. So, if anyone cares, I'll share the changes I'm currently working on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I've signed up for a class at a community college - I have a Bachelor's Degree, but I have to admit I miss college to some extent. I love learning new things, feeling like my horizons are expanding, and when you're part of the 9-5 daily grind, you sort of lose touch with that. So, I signed up. And this class serves a dual purpose. I'm actually learning something useful. It's an introduction to interior design class. Let me be clear - I don't want to be an interior designer, but I DO want to learn the basics - space planning, color coordination, that sort of thing. My house could use it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I've ended my "job" of hosting international students. As much as I loved hosting, meeting new people, learning about their culture, and everything that comes with that - I've also really grown exhausted with the responsibility it brings. This year I'm attempting to eliminate excess in my life. Excess responsibilities specifically. I have enough on my plate working full time and being a full time mother and wife. I feel like a giant weight has been lifted from my soul! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I've begun the arduous task of de-cluttering my life. I've listed stuff on craigslist &amp; freecycle and have about 12 bags of stuff going to charity. I've been clinging to this stuff for so many years thinking I'll "need" it someday, and you know what? That day doesn't seem to ever come! Instead the "stuff" just seems to multiply like gremlins. Enough already! This is all a work in progress currently, as I still have stuff in random large piles throughout the house (which is quite overwhelming to look at), but I know in the end I will be so thrilled to have done it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I've committed to putting more time in to my disc golf game. I've been playing for about 5 years or so, but never really giving it my all. This year, I'm playing as much as I can. I've signed up for every tournament I could sign up for. In fact, I'm competing every single weekend starting on January 23rd through the end of February. I don't even care if I win, just the mere fact that I'm committing to something that *I* want to do, is fulfilling in itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are a start. &lt;br /&gt;I anticipate many more positive changes this year. &lt;br /&gt;So much possibility. &lt;br /&gt;Bring it on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-4656075116443561960?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/4656075116443561960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=4656075116443561960&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4656075116443561960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4656075116443561960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2010/01/twenty-ten.html' title='Twenty Ten'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-1361548964617913717</id><published>2009-09-24T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T12:01:56.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In The City That Never Sleeps - Part II</title><content type='html'>Sushi. It's one of those things that has to be done right. Fresh. Cut well. Expertly presented. I was hoping the sushi restaurant we chose would have all of those components and I was not disappointed. The &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Omakase"&gt;Omakase&lt;/a&gt; that we dined on was fabulous. Each new course that arrived was beautiful and tasted divine. The black cod, the Spanish mackerel, all melted in my mouth. It was my first omakase experience and certainly lived up to the hype. A little dry hot sake made the meal even better. I was worried at one point that I may still be hungry when we were done eating, but when the last piece of sushi was almost a struggle to eat, I knew it was just the right amount. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dinner was not only gastronomically satisfying, it was also enlightening. I realized that no matter how well manicured people's lives appear on the outside, we all struggle with emotional issues on the inside. This was both a blessing and a complete bummer to discover. On the one hand, it reassured me that I am not the only person around that deals with struggles. I am not a freak! On the other hand, it is saddening to know that others hurt. But I suppose that's just how life is - it's messy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After licking our chops post dinner we headed out back on to the streets of Manhattan. It's amazing to me how alive the city is. It's electrifying. Everywhere we went, there were people. Everywhere. Times Square was the most fascinating eye candy. It's just a giant ocean of people. Moving in every direction. There was even a bleacher-like sitting area which was completely covered in people. Is that like an observation deck? The lights, the sounds, the colors. I was mesmerized. I remember being in Times Square my Sophomore or Junior year of high school, circa 1989 perhaps, and thinking it was a cesspool. It was darker, danker, and somewhat seedier. And now, it was like a glossy spread out of a magazine or a clip from some movie. Times change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually we made it back to our hotel for some cocktails in the lounge. This was the same lounge that I walked past as I checked in to my hotel at 7am and yet it seemed so much more inviting. The glowing fireplace encased in glass, the brown leather seating areas situated perfectly for intimate gatherings. It seemed to make so much more sense at 10pm than it did at 7am. Fireplaces glowing at 7am seemed a bit surreal. I opted to stay downstairs rather than going upstairs to change. I feared that the moment I would have stepped in to my room, I would have collapsed on the bed for some much needed sleep. Instead, I ordered a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caipirinha"&gt;Caipirinha&lt;/a&gt; and made myself comfy on the couch. More talking ensued. An hour (or more?) passed and we were finally back in our rooms for some way overdue sleep. The bed was deliciously comfortable. I could have slept forever! And yet, at 8:15 the alarm made its presence known and it was time to start day 2. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(to be continued)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-1361548964617913717?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/1361548964617913717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=1361548964617913717&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1361548964617913717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1361548964617913717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/09/in-city-that-never-sleeps-part-ii.html' title='In The City That Never Sleeps - Part II'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-6403061567967962282</id><published>2009-09-23T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T20:42:19.248-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In The City That Never Sleeps - Part I</title><content type='html'>Ok, let's talk New York. For those who are not in the know, I visited NY this past weekend. Alone. Without kids or husband in tow. And better yet, it was to meet women I had not met before. Does that sound like online dating for mommas or what? So Bridget, Joanna, Laura, Lindsay and I made plans to head out the Big Apple to meet up after years of following one another's pregnancies, birth of our May babies, blogging, facebooking and tweeting. The time had come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday, I got off work at 5pm and headed to the airport to catch a quick commuter plane to LA and from LA I hopped on board an American Airlines plane (First class even!) to NY. Thinking I would actually get some sleep on a first class ticket is really just foolish on my part. It's not comfortable sleeping on a plane, regardless of what class your ticket is. So basically, 6am New York time rolls around, and I land at JFK. I am pretty exhausted, but so excited I don't really stop to think about it. I grabbed my luggage, caught a ridiculously expensive cab to Manhattan and checked in to our beautiful hotel. I had the whole day to kill, so I wandered around the streets for a good 6 hours, stopping to get a haircut and color, and shop at the various awesome stores. The weather was perfect. Sunny and clear skies. The pulse of the city was electric. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now about the city itself. It's amazing to me that more pedestrians don't get killed. Seriously. They walk across the street regardless if the sign flashes green or red. They have somewhere to be, and gosh darned it, they are going to get there fast. And the cars are no better. They seem to ignore traffic rules and honking is like a national past time around here. Do drivers truly believe that honking the horn is going to somehow make whatever is happening happen differently? Or is it just pure letting off steam? Odd. We don't really do much honking in San Diego. But the pedestrians also had really nice shoes. All of them. In fact, everyone in NY just seems to be dressed so stylishly. Even casual clothes were well put together. And the shoes. The shoes were awesome! I tend to focus on people's shoes a lot, and in the city people wear great shoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So eventually it was close to 3pm and the ladies had arrived! I walked back to the hotel to meet up with everyone. I walked in to the hotel lobby and there they were. In the flesh. And they looked just like I had expected! Lindsay, the tall one with the sweetest voice and smile, Laura with the warm and calm demeanor and a cute curl to her hair, and Bridget as stylish as I expected with those beautiful green eyes I never noticed before. My insecurity was already starting to get the best of me as I felt hot, sweaty, gross and badly in need of a shower and nap. But this was the city! And we had stuff to do! A quick stop in the room and we headed out to grab a bite to eat and wait for Joanna to arrive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We eventually made our way to Bryant Park where we stopped to grab cocktails and snacks at the Bryant Park Cafe. It was so lovely! Outdoors, comfy little chairs, a view of the park, people watching heaven. The cocktails were strong (as Lindsay pointed out a few times!) and the snacks were tasty. We talked about spouses, kids, travel, jobs, and everything else under the sun. The conversation flowed easily and soon Joanna arrived by train and joined us at our table as well. Joanna was much more smiley in person! And so funny! She had this awesome sense of humor that's peppered with intelligence and wit.  I was begining to feel a little loopy at this point. I just hoped I was holding it together enough to maintain a coherent conversation. Did I mention I had also lost my voice at the begining of this trip? Hilarious. I go on this trip to spend my time talking - and here I am trying not to sound like I had swallowed some sandpaper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our time at the cafe was wonderful and soon it was time to depart and make preparations for our next outing - SUSHI! We headed back to the hotel to get ready. I was trying so hard to hold it together. I sort of felt like I was floating, not really grounded at all. Lack of sleep was really starting to catch up with me. But I'm a trooper! And I was really looking forward to Omakase from Sushi Gari in the Theater District. Bridget and I got the opportunity to shack up, so it was a sheer joy getting ready with her. I was so impressed with her ability to seem 100% comfortable in her own skin. I completely lack that ability, so I'm always in awe of those who are. She's sassy, confident, with great style and ease. My hero. Eventually, I got myself together, dressed and with makeup on and we made our way to the lobby to begin our evening activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(to be continued)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-6403061567967962282?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/6403061567967962282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=6403061567967962282&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6403061567967962282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6403061567967962282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/09/in-city-that-never-sleeps-part-i.html' title='In The City That Never Sleeps - Part I'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-3462399835563788972</id><published>2009-08-27T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T16:25:08.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Overdue</title><content type='html'>Greeting and salutations blog world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started this post dozens of times over the last few months, only to get flustered with all the things that are swimming around in my noggin. There's been a lot of changes, ups and downs and general shenanigans going on in my (our) life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As some already know, we host international students from all over the world that come to San Diego to learn English. It's been an amazing adventure doing this over the last 2+ years, but I think I've finally hit a point where we need a break. We've housed someone every day since then. Sometimes we have 1 girl and sometimes we have as many as 3. Some short term (4 weeks), some long term (1 year), but through it all there has been someone under our roof the entire time. So I'm taking a vacation from my hosting duties. Not sure for how long, perhaps a few weeks, perhaps a few months, but it will be nice to come home and cook for just my brood of 4. I may even take the extra leaf out of our dining room table. Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids are well. Xaelen turned three in May and started his new preschool on September 9th. Quillan turned one at the end of July and is growing at record speed. He started walking a few days before his birthday, and he's zooming around with ease now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what about me... Well, I just returned from a whirlwind vacation in NY with some awesome ladies that I met through the magic of the interweb way back when I was still pregnant with Xaelen. We've known each other for almost 4 years through our blogs, facebook, twitter &amp; the postings on babycenter's mom boards, but had yet to meet in person. There is so much to report about our trip that I'll post it tomorrow when I've had a moment to gather my thoughts. I just returned last night at 11pm and barely had a moment to get settled. Stay tuned though!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-3462399835563788972?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/3462399835563788972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=3462399835563788972&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3462399835563788972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3462399835563788972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/08/overdue.html' title='Overdue'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-5760698185519639488</id><published>2009-05-12T08:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T09:00:28.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yum Yum Good</title><content type='html'>I didn't realize just how large Quillan is. I mean, he's big, VERY big, but I haven't been able to truly put it in to perspective until I looked at Xaelen's stats from when he was 18 months old. Quillan is the same size, now at 9 months, as Xaelen was at 18 months. 23 pounds, 31.5 inches. Holy Thunderthighs, Batman! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he's not just heavy, he's TALL. He's just 4.5 inches shorter than Xaelen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, not entirely surprising given how much this kid eats. He eats and eats and eats and eats. He will just sit in his high chair and open his mouth repeatedly like a baby bird. He eats everything too! Xaelen wasn't very fond of eating from an early age (and it hasn't changed much). Quillan likes ALL food! He eats soup, oatmeal, yogurt, fruit, noodles, chicken, fish, you name it, he eats it. Although, there was one thing he NEVER wanted to eat. Baby food. You know, the kind in a jar. Smart kid, that stuff tastes nasty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to encourage Xaelen to eat more by telling him that soon he'll be the little brother and Quillan will be his big brother. He wasn't so sure that would happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"*I'M* the big brother, mommy. Quillan is the BABY brother". Duh. Everyone knows that. That kid is sharp. Can't get anything past him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-5760698185519639488?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/5760698185519639488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=5760698185519639488&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5760698185519639488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5760698185519639488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/05/yum-yum-good.html' title='Yum Yum Good'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-7338690532893865762</id><published>2009-05-11T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T09:39:18.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SghScF3_C0I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/Phqk37SgupA/s1600-h/mothers+day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 147px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SghScF3_C0I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/Phqk37SgupA/s320/mothers+day.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334604401187162946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't know, Adam and I are a host family for international students coming to San Diego to learn English. Every 6 months or so, we get a new student (or two). We are currently hosting two girls from Japan. Mizuki &amp; Risa arrived at the end of March and are staying with us until the end of June. The boys adore them and it's been wonderful having them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, Mother's day wasn't just about having my oldest give me tons of hugs and kisses. This year, I have another child. This year, I am a mother two times over. And actually, you could say I'm a mother 4 times over. My wonderful students made me this card to commemerate Mother's Day. They signed it "Your Children". I love it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-7338690532893865762?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/7338690532893865762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=7338690532893865762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/7338690532893865762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/7338690532893865762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SghScF3_C0I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/Phqk37SgupA/s72-c/mothers+day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-601539453064204535</id><published>2009-05-07T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T21:03:15.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The news clip</title><content type='html'>Let me first start out by saying what a joke it is trying to get a snippet of news somehow transmitted to you. The actual news station contracts out to a third party who deals with providing people with news clips via CD, DVD, VHS, etc. Would someone like to guess how much that costs? $35 is the cheapest way - VHS tape. Now, why on earth would I want a VHS tape of a 42 second clip, I have no idea. So I suggested to the 3rd party, how about you just email me the 42 second clip. Guess how much that costs - $70. For an AVI file. I've never heard of such insanity in all of my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as it stands, I decided to go the cheapskate route. Forgive me. But there is no way in this or any other world I would pay $70 for an emailed 42 second clip. No thank you. What you are viewing is Adam pointing our little video camera at our 10 foot TV screen we have in our den. Hopefully, nobody minds? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-695519bbb8fdd310" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D695519bbb8fdd310%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330298423%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5AC9CD875D1FDE76CB97D8A9970540CB57CECD0.5C5A943DD53DFADCC8C994FB879FE57B29AFD6F9%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D695519bbb8fdd310%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DA5QUgvfT1607iCv0bBNECMFBiwg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D695519bbb8fdd310%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330298423%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5AC9CD875D1FDE76CB97D8A9970540CB57CECD0.5C5A943DD53DFADCC8C994FB879FE57B29AFD6F9%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D695519bbb8fdd310%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DA5QUgvfT1607iCv0bBNECMFBiwg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-601539453064204535?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=695519bbb8fdd310&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/601539453064204535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=601539453064204535&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/601539453064204535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/601539453064204535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/05/news-clip.html' title='The news clip'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-6256536675823363279</id><published>2009-05-06T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T12:56:40.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Checkup Update</title><content type='html'>The kids had their visit to the doctor today. X doing his 3 year checkup and Q doing his 9 month checkup. Here are their stats:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;X - 36.25 inches (25%)&lt;br /&gt;    31.50 pounds (50%)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q - 31.50 inches (97%)&lt;br /&gt;    23.00 pounds (80%)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, Q is catching up to X in the height department. I'm not entirely surprised. Q eats SOOOooo much better than X ever did at this age (or any age for that matter). I'll post some pics tomorrow of both little monkeys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-6256536675823363279?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/6256536675823363279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=6256536675823363279&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6256536675823363279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6256536675823363279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/05/checkup-update.html' title='Checkup Update'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-2496516671626666606</id><published>2009-05-05T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T19:47:30.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>X makes the local news</title><content type='html'>The world distance throw attempt was today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bad news: We missed the 75 foot distance needed by about 22 inches...There's always next year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news: Xaelen was on the news! CBS San Diego had him on at the end of the news hour to close out the news program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So incredibly cute! They called him a disc golf prodigy. Adam did a little interview which they aired as well. I looked fat. Overall, a lovely time was had by all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow Xaelen turns 3! We've got quite the fun filled day planned. 1st off, we're heading to the doctor for X's 3 year check-up and Q's 9 month check up. Then we're off to our favorite place for lunchtime SUSHI! And then tonight, to finish off a fabulous day, we're having a little "party" for him at the nearby Chuck E. Cheese. Now, personally, I'm really rather anti places such as that. Unfortunately my parents have him hooked on that place. They've taken him there numerous times and he won't stop talking about how he's going to have a birthday there. I had no choice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, does anyone have any idea how I can take what I recorded of the news segment on our DVR at home and somehow put it on my blog? Or put it anywhere for that matter? I checked their website (for channel 8 San Diego) and they don't have this story online, only on the evening newscast. Any ideas? Much appreciated!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-2496516671626666606?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/2496516671626666606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=2496516671626666606&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2496516671626666606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2496516671626666606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/05/x-makes-local-news.html' title='X makes the local news'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-789935861754682567</id><published>2009-04-29T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T08:59:37.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Practice for Breaking the World Record</title><content type='html'>So Xaelen is working towards breaking the world record for distance in disc throwing. Here he is practicing at the park. The current record is from 1990 set by a 2 year old from Japan. We will try and beat it this weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Records are kept by the World Flying Disc Federation &lt;a href="http://wfdf.org/index.php?page=records/index.htm#distance"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fingers crossed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="576" height="432" &gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/152568070650" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/152568070650" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="576" height="432"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-789935861754682567?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/789935861754682567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=789935861754682567&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/789935861754682567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/789935861754682567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/04/practice-for-breaking-world-record.html' title='Practice for Breaking the World Record'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-8691380089933987732</id><published>2009-04-29T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T08:44:51.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 for 2 - In The Basket</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="576" height="432" &gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/152584620650" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/152584620650" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="576" height="432"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-8691380089933987732?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/8691380089933987732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=8691380089933987732&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/8691380089933987732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/8691380089933987732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/04/2-for-2-in-basket.html' title='2 for 2 - In The Basket'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-3052067975559779116</id><published>2009-03-24T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T12:42:07.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something worth sharing</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0bZNfFRwONc&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0bZNfFRwONc&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found this online today when searching for the terms "Kid" "Disc" &amp; "Golf".&lt;br /&gt;Yes. That is my son. Yes. He is now on YouTube. &lt;br /&gt;It's weird. I'm not entirely sure if I like it. &lt;br /&gt;On the one hand, he's amazing and I like sharing his gift with others.&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, that's my 2 year old son displayed for the world to see. Scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, what are your thoughts? What should I be doing to control others putting his image online?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-3052067975559779116?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/3052067975559779116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=3052067975559779116&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3052067975559779116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3052067975559779116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2009/03/something-worth-sharing.html' title='Something worth sharing'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-6628399788561079645</id><published>2008-10-16T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T13:03:19.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Epic Journey - Day 1</title><content type='html'>Wednesday October 1st, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took off from San Diego and drove up to Los Angeles in order to catch a flight to Seattle. The kids slept on the 2 hour drive and we arrived at the airport in good time.  Xaelen was an immense help! He packed his own little suitcase and pulled it behind him the entire time. That really helped! Bless his little heart:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="width:auto;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5tU-nPGcqdMJcNGEGCfjng"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/adazmnash/SPbEUUjXYWI/AAAAAAAADdI/ydpHxlMJlzo/s800/IMG_2856.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right"&gt;From &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/adazmnash/Fall08"&gt;fall 08&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flight was easy and not too long. Quillan slept almost the entire time and Xaelen only fell asleep about 30 minutes before we landed. It was surprisingly difficult to get both kids off the plane without waking them. We opted to not bring a stroller with us due to the fact we were trying to travel light. Thankfully, we borrowed a car seat that has wheels, that made life easier. Here are my lads after we landed. Still sleeping, thank goodness:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="width:auto;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/-6TNvXPFziL1CiIlD81Tew"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/adazmnash/SPbETgaDVCI/AAAAAAAADdA/LQ5Rh6SGEvk/s800/IMG_2879.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right"&gt;From &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/adazmnash/Fall08"&gt;fall 08&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were picked up at the airport by my mother in law Cathay. She had her RV up in Seattle and tonight we would be spending the night in it parked at her sister's house. It was VERY comfy and we were asleep almost immediately. Quillan and I had the top bunk, Xaelen and Adam had the bottom bed and Cathay was in the 3rd bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday October 2, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We woke up early and drove to breakfast in the heart of Seattle - The Rusty Pelican. This restaurant was delish! I probably had too much coffee, but it was too good! We spent time with Adam's cousins Aaron &amp; Rachel. Xaelen was elated to see Aaron as this was the first time since Aaron moved away. Aaron had lived with us since 2003 and moved away in late spring 2008. Here's Aaron &amp; Xaelen bonding over breakfast, with Rachel in the background:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="width:auto;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/3tczJ5jr_dmDZoMUQF2oFw"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/adazmnash/SPbERpV0i2I/AAAAAAAADc4/6-76gFVkFc0/s400/IMG_2895.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right"&gt;From &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/adazmnash/Fall08"&gt;fall 08&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After breakfast, we picked up a few essentials: wine, beer and snacks and continued our journey south. The goal was to make it from Seattle to Redding, CA by Tuesday night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(to be continued shortly)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-6628399788561079645?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/6628399788561079645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=6628399788561079645&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6628399788561079645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6628399788561079645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/10/our-epic-journey-day-1.html' title='Our Epic Journey - Day 1'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/adazmnash/SPbEUUjXYWI/AAAAAAAADdI/ydpHxlMJlzo/s72-c/IMG_2856.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-7902243534015153436</id><published>2008-10-15T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T20:44:41.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Overload</title><content type='html'>There is so much I want to talk about that I'm overwhelmed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The market. &lt;br /&gt;I know I'm only in my 30's. I know I have many many moons left until I retire. I know that when the market is down, it could be a very good time to get in and make more money down the line. &lt;br /&gt;BUT,&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't change the fact that it is VERY depressing to look at your retirement account and realize that 1/3 of it's value is gone. Poof. Gone. Blech. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just got back from a fabulous epic vacation. 10 days on the road with my men. Craziness, I tell ya. Mayhem ensued. I plan on posting the details and oodles of fun pictures soon. Let me just say that we chose to travel WITHOUT a car. We had a 1 way airline ticket to Seattle, an RV journey through Washington, Oregon &amp; Northern California, and a fascinating experience taking the train from Redding, to Oakland to San Luis Obispo to Los Angeles. Overall, we survived, unscathed and wiser. Even with some bumps in the road, it was a trip to remember and I'm sure it will be one of those trips we'll rehash for decades to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've returned back to work. Halleluja! Can I get an Amen? Truly, I was meant to work. I thrive when I work. I feel vital and relevant when I work. I missed it and I'm elated to be back. Now having said that, I miss my boys! I do. A lot. I'm glad we had our big vacation right before I returned because I can reflect on all of our good times during the day and it fills me with the warm fuzzies. Everyone needs warm fuzzies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The election. Man of man, when is this election season going to be over!?! Oh... right... November 4th. It really can't come fast enough for this gal. I love politics, I love talking politics and I love reading about politics. I especially love reading debate boards pertaining to politics, but even *I'VE* hit my breaking point. It's been a LONG campaigning season. It's time to move on. It's time. I won't espouse my opinions or preferences here for fear of alienating my friends who may not share them. Yet those who know me well enough, know how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on that note, I'm going to go finish editing my pictures from the trip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-7902243534015153436?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/7902243534015153436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=7902243534015153436&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/7902243534015153436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/7902243534015153436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/10/overload.html' title='Overload'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-5248378723761204947</id><published>2008-09-22T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T20:42:11.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Weeks</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SNhlkjh-MlI/AAAAAAAAANg/zB-a1AvUDLs/s1600-h/IMG_6543-1.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SNhlkjh-MlI/AAAAAAAAANg/zB-a1AvUDLs/s400/IMG_6543-1.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little man.&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&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/7373217931154613726-5248378723761204947?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/5248378723761204947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=5248378723761204947&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5248378723761204947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5248378723761204947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/09/7-weeks_22.html' title='7 Weeks'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SNhlkjh-MlI/AAAAAAAAANg/zB-a1AvUDLs/s72-c/IMG_6543-1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-5280418538950978947</id><published>2008-09-22T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T21:54:31.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brothers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SNhk_rKNLjI/AAAAAAAAANY/5Cs5UQ5K4Ew/s1600-h/6weeks10.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SNhk_rKNLjI/AAAAAAAAANY/5Cs5UQ5K4Ew/s400/6weeks10.jpg' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Xaelen at 6 weeks. There are some similarities... X definitely has my eyes, and I think Q has Adam's eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, did I look younger or what? Yikes. I have a feeling having kids ages you. Maybe it's all those sleepless nights? Or perhaps it's the added weight of being a new mom, but MAN do I look old.&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&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/7373217931154613726-5280418538950978947?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/5280418538950978947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=5280418538950978947&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5280418538950978947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5280418538950978947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/09/brothers.html' title='Brothers'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SNhk_rKNLjI/AAAAAAAAANY/5Cs5UQ5K4Ew/s72-c/6weeks10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-6379777193611816476</id><published>2008-09-10T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T19:21:58.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My BIG boy</title><content type='html'>Quillan had his checkup at the doctor today. He is 6 weeks old and an itty bitty baby he is not. &lt;br /&gt;Drumroll please...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bruiser of a VBAC baby is now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 lbs 13 oz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26.5 inches long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder he is wearing 3-6 month clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a great kid. Super mellow with no major issues - except for GAS. Perhaps he'll outgrow it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that floored me today at the office visit was the question the nurse asked - "Is he sleeping through the night?"... HUH?? Xaelen didn't completely sleep through the night by himself without mom and dad until he was like 15 months or something. And here she is asking if my 6 week old sleeps through the night? HAHHAhahahhaha. I just have to laugh at that one. He doesn't sleep through the night, but he DOES sleep well enough for me! He wakes up every 3 hours or so, nurses and goes RIGHT back to sleep - works for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="width:auto;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/MOd1qy7GuLRUjJ7E-ss7DA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/adazmnash/SMWpEBe3EBI/AAAAAAAADUM/MukzGCGlPsw/s800/IMG_6484.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right"&gt;From &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/adazmnash/EndOfSummer2008"&gt;end of summer 2008&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="width:auto;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4qxrh04lleIzSU-iothKUA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/adazmnash/SMWoT2eLF9I/AAAAAAAADOU/kWuO0PwFblA/s800/IMG_6368.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right"&gt;From &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/adazmnash/EndOfSummer2008"&gt;end of summer 2008&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here is my other big baby: My beautiful Xaelen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="width:auto;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/AU6lIJtEr_6EVUje-VrVdA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/adazmnash/SMWodL_V3xI/AAAAAAAADPk/vJorA4DC2B8/s800/IMG_6273.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right"&gt;From &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/adazmnash/EndOfSummer2008"&gt;end of summer 2008&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-6379777193611816476?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/6379777193611816476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=6379777193611816476&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6379777193611816476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6379777193611816476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-big-boy.html' title='My BIG boy'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/adazmnash/SMWpEBe3EBI/AAAAAAAADUM/MukzGCGlPsw/s72-c/IMG_6484.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-1169543665649119457</id><published>2008-08-16T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T22:42:55.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So, what's up?</title><content type='html'>I've been M.I.A. for 2 weeks. But only from blogging, because lord knows I've not been M.I.A. from my life. I've had my hands full with my ever expanding brood. So what's new? Quillan is continuing to grow grow grow... at our last office visit (2 week check up) he had grown to 11lbs 11oz (no idea on length as the nurse forgot to measure him). Let me tell you, he is a BIG boy. Forget wearing newborn clothes. Forget wearing 0-3 month clothes. The kid is wearing 3-6 month clothes and he'll be 3 weeks old on Monday!  Holy moly! I guess I'm not surprised, given he eats and eats and eats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breastfeeding has gone better this time around. I didn't really have MAJOR issues with nursing last time, but it &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; harder. I guess it was all so new before, and it mostly hurt in the beginning. I guess now, after having nursed a toddler, nursing a newborn feels like nothing. I've got tons of milk, or so it seems as I drown him every time he begins a feeding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was planning on posting about a week ago to state for the record that Quillan is a much calmer baby than Xaelen was. I was pretty sure of that. I think I'm going to have to take that sentiment back though. We're having the similar fussy issues with Q as we did with X. Gassy tummy = SUPER cranky kid. This too shall pass though, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for sleep, Quillan seems to be doing well in that department. He sleeps the entire night, nursing once or twice and going right back down. We co-sleep currently, so it leaves my sanity much more intact. I'm not sure I could function as well without the extra sleep I get from co-sleeping. I know it doesn't work for everyone, but for now - it works for us. He's been napping in his crib though, so there is hope for us yet! I really WOULD like to get him "trained" to sleep on his own, in his crib, through the night someday. But for now - we'll just keep on keeping on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm slowly getting back to my pre-pregnancy self. I lost 30 lbs so far, but given I gained 50lbs (yikes!) this time around, I still have a ways to go to get back to my old body. No worries. It's only been 3 weeks. I'm still suffering from 1 minor(ish) ailment after giving birth. I can't feel my right foot. I'm not really sure what's wrong. Some have said it might have been from the epidural, some have said it was from the pressure Q's head put on some nerves in my hips on his way down the birth canal (he was sort of stuck for a while there in a less than optimal position). It's just weird. It feels like my foot fell asleep and just never woke up. Not fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's all for now. Tomorrow I'm going to try and post comparison pics of my 2 boys. They really do look somewhat alike, although I think X looks more like me and Q looks more like Adam. You'll have to tell me what you all think!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-1169543665649119457?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/1169543665649119457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=1169543665649119457&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1169543665649119457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1169543665649119457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-whats-up.html' title='So, what&apos;s up?'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-5266534437989705753</id><published>2008-08-16T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T17:46:27.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The man I married...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SKd04zDyc6I/AAAAAAAAAM0/FXTchoB5wwE/s1600-h/DSC_0150.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SKd04zDyc6I/AAAAAAAAAM0/FXTchoB5wwE/s400/DSC_0150.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he STILL looks great. Why do men age so damned gracefully?&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&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/7373217931154613726-5266534437989705753?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/5266534437989705753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=5266534437989705753&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5266534437989705753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5266534437989705753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/08/man-i-married.html' title='The man I married...'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SKd04zDyc6I/AAAAAAAAAM0/FXTchoB5wwE/s72-c/DSC_0150.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-1001207931928677012</id><published>2008-08-16T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T16:11:12.655-07:00</updated><title type='text'>February 15, 2003</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SKdeHegCsmI/AAAAAAAAAMs/sOtYPvtgeNA/s1600-h/DSC_0031.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SKdeHegCsmI/AAAAAAAAAMs/sOtYPvtgeNA/s400/DSC_0031.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking at old pictures today... we looked so young! This is from our wedding reception. We actually got married January 9th in Jamaica, but had our reception when we returned. Man, time flies when you're raising kids! LOL!&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&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/7373217931154613726-1001207931928677012?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/1001207931928677012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=1001207931928677012&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1001207931928677012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1001207931928677012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/08/february-15-2003.html' title='February 15, 2003'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SKdeHegCsmI/AAAAAAAAAMs/sOtYPvtgeNA/s72-c/DSC_0031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-4735411435982790351</id><published>2008-07-31T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T21:37:07.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming off my VBAC happy cloud</title><content type='html'>So I'm feeling sad today. I miss my 1st born! It just makes my heart ache seeing him want to be close to me and me constantly have to say no because there is a new little one attached to me. It sad that the majority of the time I have to say "No Xaelen, don't do that" to whatever he is trying to do. He's been acting out quite a bit since Quillan's birth. I expected a certain level of this, but I didn't realize it would be so soon and so all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying my best to still be there for him as much as possible, but ultimately that leaves me feeling completely and utterly exhausted. My body still hurts and I'm still recovering from birth. It's hard enough keeping up with the needs of a newborn, lack of sleep and all. But it's even harder to juggle the needs of a newborn AND those of my wonderful 2 year old. I don't know how mothers do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I look in to Xaelen's big blue eyes, I just want to cry. It's like I know things between us are never going to be quite the same. He will never be my one and only little man again. I have to figure out a way to still make Xaelen feel special and to have OUR time together to be special, even with a new little one in our life. If anyone has any suggestions, I will be more than happy to hear them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-4735411435982790351?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/4735411435982790351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=4735411435982790351&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4735411435982790351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4735411435982790351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/coming-off-my-vbac-happy-cloud.html' title='Coming off my VBAC happy cloud'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-3482903928386388234</id><published>2008-07-30T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:31:32.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quillan's 1st Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SJDu2Lef-4I/AAAAAAAAAMI/hESzw5X19Tk/s1600-h/IMG_6043.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SJDu2Lef-4I/AAAAAAAAAMI/hESzw5X19Tk/s320/IMG_6043.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SJDu2aiNIcI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/y6d4vHxC_1g/s1600-h/IMG_6076.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SJDu2aiNIcI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/y6d4vHxC_1g/s320/IMG_6076.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SJDu2pUWodI/AAAAAAAAAMY/R-S6j-zGovs/s1600-h/IMG_6083.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SJDu2pUWodI/AAAAAAAAAMY/R-S6j-zGovs/s320/IMG_6083.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SJDu3BhnckI/AAAAAAAAAMg/ETP6a2r7hmc/s1600-h/IMG_6085.JPG'&gt;&lt;img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SJDu3BhnckI/AAAAAAAAAMg/ETP6a2r7hmc/s320/IMG_6085.JPG' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&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/7373217931154613726-3482903928386388234?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/3482903928386388234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=3482903928386388234&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3482903928386388234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3482903928386388234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-post.html' title='Quillan&apos;s 1st Photos'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SJDu2Lef-4I/AAAAAAAAAMI/hESzw5X19Tk/s72-c/IMG_6043.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-9109977378833009036</id><published>2008-07-29T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T21:17:19.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mission Accomplished! Quillan is here!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;IT&lt;/span&gt; turned out to be the real deal! After I wrote the last post, I continued to time things and they were getting more intense and coming about 7 minutes apart. I took a shower, got my parents to pick up Xaelen, finishing packing up some last minute belongings, called my doula and told her we'd be heading on over. Around 11pm we arrived at Doula Dawn's house. I labored on her couch for a while and then decided the jacuzzi was a much better place to be. I got in and the pain certainly became more manageable but still quite intense. The problem once again, as it was with Xaelen, is I was experiencing a tremendous amount of back pain. This one wasn't posterior, but his was cocked to the side a bit making each contraction  more intense then it otherwise would have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 2am, I proclaimed that I think I was ready to go to the hospital. I think I would have stayed in the water the entire laboring process, but I was so scared of having to go the hospital in the middle of transition or even worse, as I was birthing.  I was still more or less hanging in, so I figured now would be a good time to go. Our doula's house was just 6 minutes from the hospital, making it a quick journey for us. We arrived at the hospital, and the walk from the car to admissions was the LONGEST WALK EVER! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at Labor and Delivery, and they had no rooms available at the moment! Ack! I was asked to sit in the waiting room while they cleaned one up for us. Oh my goodness. There were no couches, just 6 hard chairs. While we waited, I had about 5 or 6 surges. I just kept breathing through them and reminding myself "I can do anything for just 1 minute". That was my mantra through each and every surge I had during the labor. After about 15 or so minutes, I was brought to my labor room and checked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After an internal exam, I heard the words I so desperately didn't want to hear. I had only progressed to 2 cm. Holy crap! I couldn't believe it. I had been laboring so hard, I was sure that I had made more progress. I had already made a deal with myself. If they told me I was 0 or 1, I would immediately ask for a c-section. Obviously, my cervix was too scarred and would never open. If I was a 2 or 3, I would ask for an epidural, and if I was a 4 or more, I would just keep on truckin'. Based on that deal, I was on the verge of tears and told my doula - I think I need meds. I really didn't want to have a medicated birth, but it was more important for me to have a VBAC than it was to have a non-medicated birth. And with the epidural, I felt that perhaps I would still have a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 3:30am my water broke, at 4:00am I got my epidural, and at 4:30am I was checked again. The next statement made my whole world spin. The nurse exclaimed "You're between a 6 or 7". Oh my goodness! I was elated! In just over an hour I went from 2 to almost 7! It could have been the water breaking, it could have been the epidural, but whichever it was - it was magic! I rested as much as I could from that point on. The epidural was light enough for me to still feel the surges, although they were just tightening sensations rather than pain. The epidural was also strong enough to allow me some much needed rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 2 hours, and a little bit of a catnap later, I was checked again. I was at 9! It was probably around 7am at this point. We did a couple of practice pushes while he was checking me. It was amazing! By this point my epidural seemed to be wearing away. I could feel my legs and the surges to some extent. About 2 hours later I was complete! I was at 10! Who knew I could dilate to 10! &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I pushed with the help of my wonderful Dr. Biter, my doula Dawn, my nurse Julie and Adam. Pushing probably took around an hour. With my last push, out came my very BIG baby! Unfortunately, he was also covered in meconium and therefore needed to be rushed away from me in order to help him breathe. So here is a little about his stats:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was 9lbs 14oz (if he hadn't passed meconium he might have been the full 10lbs!)&lt;br /&gt;He was 20.5 inches long&lt;br /&gt;He looks like a little Xaelen, only with darker hair and slightly more smooshed head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel super human! I pushed a baby (a BIG baby) out of my vagina!!!! And I didn't tear! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're home today, 26 hours after I delivered. I feel good, although quite sore. My bum hurts, my vagina hurts, and my uterus is cramping up like crazy. It's all par for the course though. I feel super accomplished and super tired.. And with that, I'm going to try and take a nap!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-9109977378833009036?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/9109977378833009036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=9109977378833009036&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/9109977378833009036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/9109977378833009036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/mission-accomplished.html' title='Mission Accomplished! Quillan is here!'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-2096973196381000431</id><published>2008-07-27T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T20:55:34.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This could be IT.</title><content type='html'>I'm not entirely sure... but &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;IT&lt;/span&gt; feels much different than anything else I've felt this pregnancy, and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;IT&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; feels somewhat similar to the little bit of labor pain I felt before the back labor kicked in last time with Xaelen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out to sushi with Adam, Xaelen &amp; my parents. I started having braxton hicks contractions, but much more intensely and frequently than I've felt before. I was thinking this might mean something, but shrugged it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home around 6:30, and I started noticing that I was now starting to feel some cramps - almost like menstrual cramps, but different somehow. I put Xaelen to bed around 8pm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(CUT)&lt;br /&gt;OH MY GOODNESS, that was a painful one.. ok.. back to the story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's now 8:48pm and they seem to be coming more and more frequently, but I still haven't established that they are coming regularly or at any consistent intervals. I will cross my fingers that this is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;IT&lt;/span&gt;, and the next time ya'll hear from us, we'll be parents of not one, but two beautiful boys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-2096973196381000431?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/2096973196381000431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=2096973196381000431&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2096973196381000431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2096973196381000431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-could-be-it.html' title='This could be IT.'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-2570808337571059580</id><published>2008-07-24T16:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T16:36:19.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meh</title><content type='html'>Today was not really a happy, shining day. Granted, it's only 4:29pm so it could still get better, but I'm not holding out hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel craptastic. &lt;br /&gt;When I woke up I felt like I was getting a cold. &lt;br /&gt;Throat felt funny, nose felt itchy.&lt;br /&gt;My head felt a bit clogged.&lt;br /&gt;Mostly yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up, made everyone breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;Oh.. did I mention we're hosting 2 students from Korea? They arrived on the day before my due date. Hahaha. And to think I was worried I'd be in labor when we would have to be picking them up to bring them to our house. That was a misplaced worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to my story.&lt;br /&gt;I made everyone breakfast. Attempted to dishes from last night's dinner.&lt;br /&gt;Trying my best to function and be productive. And I'm just DRAGGIN! I mean, I can't seem to move faster than a snail no matter what. I had coffee. Nothing. I had some juice thinking the sugar would get me going. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so tired. I'm so hot. I'm so over it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think I'm feeling potentially down today as well. Well, no, potentially isn't the right word. I AM feeling down today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't seem to get excited about anything. I just feel like I wish I had never got out of bed. Blech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So perhaps tomorrow, my spirits will be higher? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I need some exercise? Ugh. I truly can't imagine doing anything physical. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough venting for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-2570808337571059580?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/2570808337571059580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=2570808337571059580&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2570808337571059580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2570808337571059580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/meh.html' title='Meh'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-4864570754581841155</id><published>2008-07-23T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T20:42:26.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Knocked Up</title><content type='html'>My appointment with the OB was today. Not the best news was heard.. but hey, what can ya do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still 0 dilated&lt;br /&gt;I'm still mostly not effaced yet - just an itty bitty bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have another appointment on Monday - my 41 week one. We will again discuss the options. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news about today was Dr. Biter's wonderful response to my question about whether I should be concerned about being past due. His response was simply "It looks like your kiddo is just not ready to come out yet.. let's let your body dictate rather than medicalizing it." How fantastic is that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really nice that nobody is panicking. &lt;br /&gt;Nobody is trying to push me to have a repeat Cesarean. &lt;br /&gt;Nobody is trying to use any scare tactics on me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I think of all the parties involved - My OB, My Chiropractor, My doula, etc. - I am probably the most "panicky" of all. So if my support team feels all loosey goosey about it, so shall I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we sit and wait. Let's see what hatches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-4864570754581841155?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/4864570754581841155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=4864570754581841155&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4864570754581841155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4864570754581841155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/still-knocked-up.html' title='Still Knocked Up'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-4680224945458902294</id><published>2008-07-22T00:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T00:21:38.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Past Due</title><content type='html'>Well. &lt;br /&gt;I'm officially past due now.&lt;br /&gt;I've never been in this position before. Xaelen was a week early, so this being past due business is a new thing for me. I'm trying really hard to not think of myself as broken. I know that pregnancies can go longer than 40 weeks and it's just a guess date, not a due date anyhow. But that still doesn't stop me from wondering what's the holdup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on out baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy truly can not get any bigger. If I did, I'd pop. Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd post a picture, but I really don't want to frighten anyone that knows me :) I have got a gigantically large belly happening here. I gained 29 pounds with Xaelen. I'm almost afraid to say what I gained this time. Ah screw it. I'll share. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45 lbs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a whole lot of Rita!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news, if you see me from the back, I don't really look pregnant. I'm all belly and boobs. Although my face is much rounder too.. But whatever. That's where nursing comes in! I figure nursing will once again prevail in helping me shed all the weight in 6 to 8 weeks like last time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if I could just find something to help pass the time while waiting. So far, my trips to Target, Costco, Lowes &amp; Ikea are just eating away in to my maternity leave savings and disability pay. But man am I getting some good deals!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-4680224945458902294?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/4680224945458902294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=4680224945458902294&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4680224945458902294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4680224945458902294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/past-due.html' title='Past Due'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-2703630132100843455</id><published>2008-07-21T00:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:31:32.518-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So flattered!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SIQ9QRNApQI/AAAAAAAAALg/AqpkWUrsFBU/s1600-h/award_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SIQ9QRNApQI/AAAAAAAAALg/AqpkWUrsFBU/s320/award_3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225368817361790210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel completely and totally unworthy of this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to Joanna over at &lt;a href="http://joannasmommyblog.blogspot.com/"&gt;"Sidewalk Chalk and Sippy Cups"&lt;/a&gt;. Although again, I feel totally unworthy of this. But thank you so very much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now the rules for those I've nominated on here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You should put the logo on your blog.&lt;br /&gt;2. You then add a link to the person who awarded you.&lt;br /&gt;3. You then must nominate fellow bloggers for this award.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nominate the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://desidvm.blogspot.com/"&gt;The E Family In Sin City&lt;/a&gt; - Because I think she's pretty damn cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://yearoffrugalliving.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Year of Frugal Living&lt;/a&gt; - Because I get inspired every time I read her blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lifeasamomat21.blogspot.com/"&gt;Life as a Mom at 21&lt;/a&gt; - Because I'm constantly in awe of how together this girl is at such a young age. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Add links to the recipients. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Leave a comment so the recipients know they have received an award.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-2703630132100843455?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/2703630132100843455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=2703630132100843455&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2703630132100843455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2703630132100843455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/so-flattered.html' title='So flattered!'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SIQ9QRNApQI/AAAAAAAAALg/AqpkWUrsFBU/s72-c/award_3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-6818449844713329545</id><published>2008-07-20T13:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T13:30:01.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heading in to the home stretch</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is my due date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder, does that even really mean anything? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No real changes to speak of yet. Nothing really brewing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Full moon had no effect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking about having a glass of wine tonight. My doula seems to think that relaxing might help. Hey, I'm all for having some wine! And if it kick starts labor, amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep ya'll posted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My doctor's appointment is on Weds. I suppose if nothing has happened by then, we'll discuss options. I just hope our "options" don't automatically mean c-section. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, technically a full term pregnancy is anywhere between 37 and 42 weeks. I'll be 40 weeks tomorrow. That still leaves me with plenty of time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-6818449844713329545?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/6818449844713329545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=6818449844713329545&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6818449844713329545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6818449844713329545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/heading-in-to-home-stretch.html' title='Heading in to the home stretch'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-6211793603362005588</id><published>2008-07-17T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T15:44:19.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Full moon = Labor?</title><content type='html'>Let's hope so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured I'd check in with the world at large and let everyone know that there has been no change. I'm still just hanging out at home.. waiting for something to happen. Nothing really to speak of. No real changes. And I'm tired of being so close and yet so far from labor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is a full moon. Perhaps? There's always talk of anecdotal evidence that labors pick up when there is a full moon. Could I be one of those?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cross your fingers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-6211793603362005588?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/6211793603362005588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=6211793603362005588&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6211793603362005588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6211793603362005588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/full-moon-labor.html' title='Full moon = Labor?'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-8840582799454339400</id><published>2008-07-14T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:52:08.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is the face that slays me every time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SHt65tCTQcI/AAAAAAAAALY/PB1tDhzfk8g/s1600-h/IMG_1721.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SHt65tCTQcI/AAAAAAAAALY/PB1tDhzfk8g/s400/IMG_1721.jpg' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&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/7373217931154613726-8840582799454339400?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/8840582799454339400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=8840582799454339400&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/8840582799454339400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/8840582799454339400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-is-face-that-slays-me-every-time.html' title='This is the face that slays me every time!'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SHt65tCTQcI/AAAAAAAAALY/PB1tDhzfk8g/s72-c/IMG_1721.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-6521725131533584352</id><published>2008-07-14T00:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T00:11:57.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shouldn't I be done by now?</title><content type='html'>I know, I know... I'm kind of asking for a lot. I'm technically not due for another 7 days, but I'm getting all anxious and stressed that I wish the time was here already! I guess it's the not knowing WHEN it will all start that freaks me out the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be a week from now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be at night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be during the day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh! All the whatifs are driving me BATTY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I'm SOOOO not ready to have a baby! I'm nervous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm nervous about labor.&lt;br /&gt;I'm nervous about delivery.&lt;br /&gt;I'm nervous about recovery.&lt;br /&gt;I'm nervous about the part where you actually have to take the baby home!&lt;br /&gt;The more I think about it, the more freaked out I get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Either way, I'm freaked out. &lt;br /&gt;And I can't sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Which freaks me out more, because I truly need the rest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the nearest rock I can hide under?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-6521725131533584352?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/6521725131533584352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=6521725131533584352&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6521725131533584352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6521725131533584352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/07/shouldnt-i-be-done-by-now.html' title='Shouldn&apos;t I be done by now?'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-1272605966379170599</id><published>2008-06-26T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T08:51:51.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dr. Wonderful just made magic happen</title><content type='html'>I just got back from the hospital and I would like to annouce my external version was a SUCCESS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was scheduled for a 4:30 version. I first visited my chiropractor one last time to make sure my pelvis was as loose and relaxed as possible and in the best position for the version. After my adjustment we drove the 1 mile to the hospital and checked in. My doula met us there. I kept thinking, is it really necessary for my doula to be there? But she offered to accompany us, so I figured why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were brought to my room and I settled in. I was hooked up to monitors and just lay there for about 20 minutes while they checked on how the baby was doing. He was great, but still breech. My doula and I chatted for a while and then she suggested I put on my relaxation mix on the ipod. I've been praciticing hypnobirthing for that last 6 weeks, so I began some of those techniques. My doula rubbed my feet and I relaxed and visualized him turning. My doula was awesome. Her presence there I think was instrumental in our success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nurse came in and gave me my first shot of Terbutaline (is that what it's called? I forget the actual name), I just continued to relax. The terbutaline makes your heart race like crazy. I was actually having a hard time relaxing given it felt like I had just downed a huge amount of coffee. About 20 minutes later, I was given another shot of terbutaline. All during this, I'm listening to my hypnobirthing cd and breathing nice and slow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor came in a few minutes later and said we are going to start. I had my eyes closed, but according to my husband: The Dr. dimmed the lights, put mineral oil on my belly, closed his eyes and began the procedure. You heard correctly, he closed his eyes. He actually did the whole thing with his eyes closed. Apparently it helps him visualize the baby and really connect to what's happening inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the bad part. It hurt. Well, it didn't HURT like my c-section recovery from last time, and it didn't hurt as bad as labor the last time, but it was very uncomfortable. I breathed slow and deep, visualizing balloons on baby's feet lifting him up and lowering him head down. The actual physical manipulation of my uterus lasted about 6 minutes - and plop, he turned. I actually was so in my hypnosis state, that I didn't even notice he flipped. I figured we tried and it wasn't working and that we were just taking a break to try again in a few minutes. But when I opened my eyes, everyone had thumbs up for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wound up staying at the hospital longer than I had expected. They wanted to monitor the baby's heartrate just to be absolutely sure that there were no complications from the version. At 7:45, I was finally allowed to go home. I'm currently wearing a belly band belt thingy they told me to wear which should keep him from turning back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fingers and toes crossed. I'm home now and utterly elated. I couldn't have done it without the help of my hypnobirthing coach (Carol), My chiropractor (Dr. Mawer), My doctor (Dr. Biter), my doula (Doula Dawn) and the wonderful nurses at the hospital. I am on cloud nine. VBAC here I come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-1272605966379170599?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/1272605966379170599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=1272605966379170599&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1272605966379170599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1272605966379170599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/06/dr-wonderful-just-made-magic-happen.html' title='Dr. Wonderful just made magic happen'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-1421282998852162906</id><published>2008-06-26T08:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T08:43:48.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is the day</title><content type='html'>I'm heading over to the hospital today to have my &lt;a href="http://www.drspock.com/article/0,1510,5284,00.html"&gt;External Cephalic Version&lt;/a&gt; preformed. I have people asking me if I'm nervous, and in all honesty - I'm not. But given all the people that keep asking, it's starting to make me nervous! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my chiropractor, Dr. Mawer, told me - this procedure is normally rather painful. In fact, he said that he doesn't recommend any of his patients have one of these, EXCEPT if they are having it with Dr. Biter - my wonderful OB. Apparently Dr. Biter is so incredibly gentle and deft with his touch, that Dr. Mawer fully supports all versions preformed by him. I truly feel like I'm in good hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go see Dr. Mawer today and have one last adjustment before heading over to the hospital to start the ECV. So I guess today is the day. It either IS or ISN'T going to happen. And then I can at least start coming to terms with what this birth will be like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been in such limbo the last few months. I've been so gung-ho VBAC, and this breech thing doesn't quite play in to my plans. It's been hard for me to even focus on having this VBAC because I have visions of c-sections playing in my head. Once I have some sort of closure one way or another, I can just move on and be at peace with what is in store for me. If we're having a c-section - then so be it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have made one decision in regards to the c-section. If I'm having one, I'm letting it happen on OUR time. We will go in to labor first rather than just scheduling a c-section. I don't want to arbitrarily pick some date as his birthdate. I would rather let nature, my body and my son decide when it's right time to enter this world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I just sit and wait. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4:30pm is just around the corner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-1421282998852162906?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/1421282998852162906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=1421282998852162906&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1421282998852162906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1421282998852162906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/06/today-is-day.html' title='Today is the day'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-7082772712750095403</id><published>2008-06-24T18:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T18:50:44.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>36 weeks 1 day</title><content type='html'>Today I visited the doc again. &lt;br /&gt;It appears as though our little one is as stubborn as ever.&lt;br /&gt;Still breech. &lt;br /&gt;We will be trying the external version procedure. I will be going in either this Thursday afternoon or Saturday morning. If that doesn't work - well, then I guess we've tried everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think good thoughts for us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-7082772712750095403?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/7082772712750095403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=7082772712750095403&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/7082772712750095403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/7082772712750095403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/06/36-weeks-1-day.html' title='36 weeks 1 day'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-6244289607655019060</id><published>2008-06-17T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T14:24:57.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>4 weeks and 5 days to go.</title><content type='html'>The countdown continues. This baby is coming. There's no denying that. The only thing in question is which opening this baby will be utilizing as his doorway in to the world. I vote vaginal. Who's with me? Oh VBAC gods, please grant me this wish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been staring at my scar a lot lately. I was't fond of the scar when I got it 2  years ago, but over the time that's passed I've sort of come to terms with it. As the moment approaches that my scar might bring another life in to the world, I have been remembering more and more all the things that I hated about my c-section. Abdominal surgery ain't pretty. Truly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sit and wait. Hoping this stubborn little man will do some gymnastics inside of me and turn turn turn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just ate a snickers bar. Truth be told, it didn't make me feel better. In fact, quite the opposite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-6244289607655019060?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/6244289607655019060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=6244289607655019060&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6244289607655019060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6244289607655019060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/06/4-weeks-and-5-days-to-go.html' title='4 weeks and 5 days to go.'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-146895007879841272</id><published>2008-06-13T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T08:40:32.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Visit to "L&amp;D"</title><content type='html'>L&amp;D = Labor and Delivery.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was feeling mostly funny. Achy, funky, strange. &lt;br /&gt;In addition to feeling off, I barely felt the baby move. Usually, he wiggles, he kicks, he's doing all kinds of acrobatics. &lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, not much. &lt;br /&gt;I even broke down and grabbed a soda from the beverage fridge at work. I never drink soda, but I thought the sugar rush might get him dancing. &lt;br /&gt;I drank an entire 12 oz can of Coke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I got down on my hands and knees (thank god no one happened to be walking by my office) and tried doing cat/cow stretches. I did some downward dog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally I wouldn't be all freaked out about this, but I've been doing all kinds of things lately to get the baby to turn - laying upside down on an inverted ironing board, strange yoga positions, etc. I was paranoid that in doing all my twists and turns, I get him somehow wedged in an unfavorable position and his cord got stuck or some other doomsday scenario. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was getting close to 4pm, and I was getting ready to leave for the day anyhow. I called my doctor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I hate to sound like a paranoid 1st time mom, but I haven't felt the baby move in a while, can I come in and see you guys?"&lt;br /&gt;"Let's have you go down to L&amp;D and get checked out" they responded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok.&lt;br /&gt;I can do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drove the 20 miles in traffic, thinking the whole way all kinds of "what-if" scenarios. I'm really good at thinking of "what-if" scenarios. Adam thinks I'm being a pessimist. Hell, I figure I'm being a realist. Shit happens. Heck, shit happens to me. It's a fact. If I can just prepare myself mentally for the what-ifs, then they are not as scary. But regardless, back to the story at hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrive at L&amp;D. This place is so nice! It's calm, cool and collected. The nurses are all so sweet. Everyone is laid back and friendly. It is SO unlike the L&amp;D at the last place I gave birth at. It's like another world. Thank goodness this is where I'll be birthing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They checked me in, they checked my vitals, they checked the baby. I hung out for 20 minutes for some monitoring. And wouldn't you know it, the moment I lay down on the bed to be evaluated, the kid starts doing acrobatics. Not like little kicks here and there, but full-on, belly moving gyrations. That little monkey! The nurse wasn't surprised. She said I should rest more. Try and lie down a few times a day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a cot in my office. Nor a couch nor even a chair that reclines very well. Not very practical for me in my current situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the important thing is the little man is A-Ok! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I know how to get to L&amp;D. &lt;br /&gt;And I'm preregistered. &lt;br /&gt;Not a complete waste of my time afterall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-146895007879841272?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/146895007879841272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=146895007879841272&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/146895007879841272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/146895007879841272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/06/visit-to-l.html' title='Visit to &quot;L&amp;D&quot;'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-3826311411203262033</id><published>2008-06-05T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T09:05:57.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vent</title><content type='html'>I think I really need to get my thoughts off my mind and on to (virtual) paper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a very busy last few weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     1) We started Hypnobirthing classes &lt;br /&gt;     2) Been visiting the chiropracter twice a week &lt;br /&gt;     3) My OB every 2 weeks (soon to be weekly)&lt;br /&gt;     4) Working 40 hours a week&lt;br /&gt;     5) Still trying to convince X that he can sleep by himself... in his own bed... &lt;br /&gt;        without Mommy and Daddy... it's still a work in progress.&lt;br /&gt;     6) Setting up all the baby gear - crib, clothes, stroller, car seat... &lt;br /&gt;     7) We've been gone almost every weekend due to various weddings, birthdays,&lt;br /&gt;        graduations, parties, etc. It's hard to get things done if we're never home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with all that in mind, here's the biggest stress factor I'm currently experiencing: This baby is breech. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the #$%^? Of all the reasons to put my VBAC in jeapordy, he's breech?!? Everyone tells me not to worry. They all say, you've got a few weeks, I'm sure he'll turn. But he hasn't. I've tried the following:&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;     1) Chiropractic care&lt;br /&gt;     2) Laying on an ironing board upside down&lt;br /&gt;     3) Frozen peas on the top of my uterus, warm towel down below&lt;br /&gt;     4) Positive thinking (This one has been the hardest, because I'm starting to &lt;br /&gt;        lose focus. I can't help but feel negative and hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;     5) Downward Dog yoga pose a few times a day. &lt;br /&gt;     6) Hypnobirthing classes which are supposed to help me focus and relax more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I'm going to try over the next 2 weeks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     1) Accupuncture&lt;br /&gt;     2) Swimming and attempting handstands in the water (We'll see about that)&lt;br /&gt;     3) Prenatal yoga with an instructor (Mondays &amp; Weds)&lt;br /&gt;     4) Hypnotherapy (It could help if I'm somehow subconsiously preventing him from&lt;br /&gt;        turning because I'm scared of vaginal birth thus ensuring a repeat &lt;br /&gt;        c-section... hmmm... could be.&lt;br /&gt;     5) Bring my yoga ball to work and use that as a chair instead of this stupid&lt;br /&gt;        chair I'm currently sitting on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if all of that still doesn't work... it will be down to my last resort:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     1) &lt;a href="http://www.drspock.com/article/0,1510,5284,00.html"&gt;External Version&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These things aren't fun. They're not as painful as labor, but they're not comfortable and they don't have a great success rate. But, if it's either having a version or having a c-section - I'll take the version. And then, if it doesn't work, I'll take the c-section (grudgingly).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is where my venting kicks in. Why oh why? I feel like I did something wrong. Like maybe I gained too much weight. Or maybe I didn't exercise enough. Or maybe I didn't think the right thoughts. Or maybe I'm scared and mentally causing this. Or maybe I didn't start chiropractic care soon enough. Or maybe this or maybe that. Obviously this kind of thinking isn't helping matters. Hence, I'm taking this from my thoughts and putting it down in writing in an attempt to clear my head of such things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. And this kid still lacks a name.&lt;br /&gt;Great.&lt;br /&gt;He's breech and nameless. &lt;br /&gt;Lovely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-3826311411203262033?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/3826311411203262033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=3826311411203262033&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3826311411203262033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3826311411203262033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/06/vent.html' title='Vent'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-8918789516016332848</id><published>2008-05-13T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:52:08.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Musings on Hindsight</title><content type='html'>There was a time when tequila was a drink of choice. When staying up late meant 2am, not 10pm. When platform shoes were my footware of choice. When going away was as easy as logging on to &lt;a href="www.travelzoo.com"&gt;travelzoo&lt;/a&gt; and finding a great getaway - and then just going. Jamaica, Laughlin, driving up the California coast and back - piece of cake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was young, carefree, nothing tieing me down.  I had quit my job in 2001 to go back to college and finish my bachelor's degree. I was 28 years old, but I felt 18. We were poor but rich on experiences of life. We did what we wanted, when we wanted, the only thing that even resembled a responsibility was a paper that might be due, or a test coming up. What could have been easier? Really, school is MUCH easier than work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SCm6IrXP2yI/AAAAAAAAAK8/0a_rP75oaRk/s1600-h/Nov2004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SCm6IrXP2yI/AAAAAAAAAK8/0a_rP75oaRk/s320/Nov2004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199891903017900834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me in 2004. No wrinkles yet. I look completely oblivious to the challenges of motherhood that lie ahead of me in just a few short years to come. I look well rested. I look thinner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SCm6ubXP2zI/AAAAAAAAALE/0utR_vLmfIQ/s1600-h/July+2005a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SCm6ubXP2zI/AAAAAAAAALE/0utR_vLmfIQ/s320/July+2005a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199892551557962546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me at the end of July 2005. The lovely gentleman in the photo is Xaelen's godfather and Adam's friend since virtually birth. We're at a wedding. It was on this trip that Xaelen was conceived. The wedding was in Modesto, CA - and just further along our trip (in Santa Cruz) the miracle of life was created. Again, I look rested! I look tan! I'm so unaware of what's to come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SCm7qbXP20I/AAAAAAAAALM/TWyLI0LB4Gg/s1600-h/Rita+Pregnant+Apr07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SCm7qbXP20I/AAAAAAAAALM/TWyLI0LB4Gg/s320/Rita+Pregnant+Apr07.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199893582350113602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is me 2 weeks before Xaelen was born. Notice that the well rested look is starting to disappear. It's as if I know what's in store for me, and I'm plugging ahead nontheless. It will be just a few weeks more before I really realize what new road we've embarked on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you all of this, becauase I'm starting to realize that in hindsight - EVERYTHING looks better. There was no way in hell that I felt young, rested, spry IN the moment. I probably felt tired, I probably felt old, and I probably felt that my "best" days were behind me. But looking back just a few years, I think WOW! You looked young! You looked rested! You looked like you were enjoying life! I need to remind myself of this, because I will look back at myself in a few years and realize that THIS is a wonderful time in life. I will not be able to relive it, the same way I will not be able to relive the years that came before. I need to remember to see TODAY as the beautiful moment that I will remember come tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Mind you, I didn't post a picture of the current moment because I feel huge, tired and old. I tell you, this realization is still a work in progress.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-8918789516016332848?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/8918789516016332848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=8918789516016332848&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/8918789516016332848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/8918789516016332848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/05/musings-on-hindsight.html' title='Musings on Hindsight'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SCm6IrXP2yI/AAAAAAAAAK8/0a_rP75oaRk/s72-c/Nov2004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-7835814319762038341</id><published>2008-05-10T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:52:09.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Xaelen's Birthstory</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SChxorXP2wI/AAAAAAAAAKo/8fa0H4gG8dQ/s1600-h/birth+pic2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SChxorXP2wI/AAAAAAAAAKo/8fa0H4gG8dQ/s320/birth+pic2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199530713448176386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SChxebXP2vI/AAAAAAAAAKg/dAxrTD2VNlA/s1600-h/birth+pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SChxebXP2vI/AAAAAAAAAKg/dAxrTD2VNlA/s320/birth+pic.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199530537354517234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to post this ages ago... but couldn't for the life of me remember where I saved it! So here it is. The original story I wrote about a week after Xaelen was born will be shown in regular text. Additional commentary that I'm adding in 2 years later is in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;italics&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was due on May 12, yet on Friday May 5 at 11:30pm I was in bed reading when I felt a pop and a sharp pain in my belly and then a small gush of liquid coming out of me. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;It sort of felt like a gas bubble bursting inside me.&lt;/span&gt; I immediately called Adam in from the other room and asked if he thought that my water had broke and he replied that it sure looked like that to him. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;It was either that, or it looked like I peed the bed, and I KNOW I didn't do that.&lt;/span&gt; We grabbed our stuff, called the hospital and they said come on in. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I remember my entire body shaking, I was so excited that it was TIME, but I was completely freaked out that it was TIME.&lt;/span&gt; We arrived at the hospital about 30 minutes later. At this point I am beginning to feel contractions and they appear to be occurring every 7 or 8 minutes. They are painful but tolerable. I spent an hour and a half at triage waiting to be admitted only to find out that according to them, my water did not break. What?!?! How could that be?? I know what I saw! &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;In retrospect, I think what happened was that my outer bag of waters popped, but didn't actually break. I bet if we would have just left it alone, it could have resealed on its own. Either way, I should have stayed away from the hospital at this point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, they send me home and told to return if anything changes. We arrive back home close to 2am and attempt to get some sleep. Adam falls asleep right away, but I am unable to due to the pain of the contractions. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I am in quite a bit of pain, but none of it is actually near my uterus. It's all in my back. Like a dagger going in to my spine and twisting twisting twisting.&lt;/span&gt; Oh my goodness. They were more intense than I had ever imagined them to be. They are also coming more frequently. I am trying to time them, but I'm not sure if I'm doing it right. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Couldn't remember if you're supposed to count from the beginning of one? From the end of the last one? From some other point? My brain can't quite wrap around it.&lt;/span&gt; I don't want to wake up Adam in case I am not REALLY in labor. Finally around 4am I wake him and tell him I can't handle the pain anymore. The contractions seem to be 4 minutes apart. We scramble up and head to the hospital again. This is where things take a turn for the miserable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I head up to triage to be evaluated. I had planned for a natural child birth but this pain is making me reevaluate. I am in triage for hours and they are short staffed. The nurses keep checking me and say I'm either 0cm or 10cm - they can't tell. &lt;em&gt;I found some information about this actual concept of appearing either 0 or 10 at &lt;a href="http://gentlebirth.org/archives/staldlbr.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; website. It's in the section called "Stenotic Cervix".&lt;/em&gt; How can they not tell??? They do tell me that I'm 100% effaced. So I'm either ready to push or far from it. Would be nice to know. I am begging for medication and they keep telling me that as soon as they can get me a room I will get my medication. I am clawing the walls at this point. I'm terrified of having the baby right there at triage. The hours pass. It is now 7 or 8 in the morning. A head nurse checks me and announces that I am 0cm dilated and asks if I had ever had surgery on my cervix. I told them that I had cryosurgery back in 1990. She tells me that my cervix may have trouble opening because of that. Yikes! What does that mean??? She asks if I want to have her try opening it. I am moaning in pain through all of this but agree to have do what it takes. She is able to manipulate my cervix enough that it opens to almost 3cm. During this process my water breaks (officially) and the pain is even more intense. &lt;em&gt;This was a big mistake. I should NOT have had her doing anything up in there. I was desperate though. I wanted to make progress, not realizing that if my water "officially" breaks, the baby could very well just get stuck in that "non optimal" position.&lt;/em&gt;  I again beg for an epidural. I'm again told that they are short staffed and are doing everything possible to get me a room. After 6 hours in triage a room finally is available and I'm wheeled upstairs to be admitted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is now 10am. My epidural is administered at 10:30am and from then on I feel relatively human again. &lt;em&gt;I swear it felt like a veil of fog had lifted and I was human again.&lt;/em&gt; I am given a most wonderfully calm and attentive nurse. She is going to oversee my care. She tells me that in her opinion my baby is facing sunny side up which would explain the painful back contractions I've been having. I settle in and wait for something to happen. I feel no pain, so I'm wondering if any progress has been made. None. Still 3cm dilated. 11am same thing. 12pm same thing. At 1pm they decide to start pitocin. 2pm no change. 3pm no change. 4pm they up the pitocin. No change. No change No change. &lt;em&gt;I tried to sleep, but I was so nervous and people just kept coming in and out of my room that I was completely unable to. In retrospect, I should have slept or asked for something to help me sleep or something, because that lack of sleep made me feel truly out of it.&lt;/em&gt;  I am now running a fever. I am given antibiotics. Still no change. It is 5pm and I'm beginning to feel like this is never going to happen. My contractions are starting to slow down. My cervix is starting to swell and seems to be closing back up. At 7pm I am evaluated one more time and my progress is now moving backwards. I am now 2cm dilated, cervix is swollen and I haven't slept, eaten, or drank water since what feels like day. &lt;em&gt;The last time I ate and drank was at 7pm the night before.&lt;/em&gt; The doctor recommends a c-section. At this point she could have recommended just about anything and I would have been fine with it. At 7:30 I am off to the O.R. about to be cut. I was so scared, but I knew the payoff would be great. We would welcome our son!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 7:51pm our beautiful little man Xaelen was born. He's perfect. I'm recovering. 4 days in the hospital and the I was home. &lt;em&gt;The hospital stay itself was less than great. Just as everyone would start to fall asleep (me, Adam or Xaelen) and someone would need to come in and check something. My uterus, his temperature, my bleeding, whatever. Why couldn't they just let us sleep!&lt;/em&gt;  The incision is having some drainage issues, but they say I should recover from that in about 10 days or so. &lt;em&gt;The recovery from the c-section sucked. I know other people have had it worse, but for me that was the worst part of it all. My incision split open a few days after we got home and start leaking blood and fluid. At first I couldn't even tell where I was bleeding from. Adam wound up having to clean and stuff my wound with packing stuff every few hours. Bless his heart. It was gross. The c-section made sneezing, laughing, coughing, standing, sitting, you name it, much more difficult. I can't even imagine having to do this with a newborn and a 2 year old at home. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the powers that be, please oh please let the next one be a vaginal birth!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-7835814319762038341?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/7835814319762038341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=7835814319762038341&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/7835814319762038341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/7835814319762038341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/05/xaelens-birthstory.html' title='Xaelen&apos;s Birthstory'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/SChxorXP2wI/AAAAAAAAAKo/8fa0H4gG8dQ/s72-c/birth+pic2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-3193256602362716827</id><published>2008-05-08T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T09:55:51.771-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The power of 4</title><content type='html'>Since I still haven't loaded Xaelen's birthday party pics on to the laptop, I'm going to give you random information about myself instead. Thanks to Bridget's &lt;a href="http://balancingtheballs.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 Jobs I have had in my life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bank Teller&lt;br /&gt;Financial Services Officer &lt;br /&gt;Market Researcher (those annoying survey people)&lt;br /&gt;Barista &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 Places I’ve Lived:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Santa Monica, CA&lt;br /&gt;Cambridge, England&lt;br /&gt;San Diego, CA&lt;br /&gt;Minsk, Belarus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 TV Shows I Watch/Watched:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bones&lt;br /&gt;The Office&lt;br /&gt;30 Rock&lt;br /&gt;SNL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 Places I have Been:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Negril, Jamaica - weddingmoon&lt;br /&gt;Paris, France - on a high school trip &lt;br /&gt;Vienna, Austria - one of the places we stopped before moving to America&lt;br /&gt;San Diego to Seattle - not really a place, but a wonderful roadtrip! 3 weeks, there and back. It was so much fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 People who email me regularly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband&lt;br /&gt;My boss&lt;br /&gt;freecycle.com&lt;br /&gt;babycenter.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 of my favorite foods:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sushi&lt;br /&gt;pickles&lt;br /&gt;Thai&lt;br /&gt;Indian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 Places I Would Like to Visit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any island in the south pacific&lt;br /&gt;India&lt;br /&gt;Egypt&lt;br /&gt;Madagascar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 Things I am Looking Forward to in the Coming Year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeting our new son&lt;br /&gt;Having a cocktail&lt;br /&gt;Dropping the pregnancy weight&lt;br /&gt;Both kids sleeping through the night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 Friends who I’m Tagging: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Do I even have friends who read this?&lt;br /&gt;Eenie. Meenie. Minie. Mo. &lt;br /&gt;No idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise to have X's party pics up before tomorrow. It was such a great party! I can't wait to tell you all about it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-3193256602362716827?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/3193256602362716827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=3193256602362716827&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3193256602362716827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3193256602362716827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/05/power-of-4.html' title='The power of 4'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-3604926616198558257</id><published>2008-04-15T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T11:46:32.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Raccoon Ate The Avocado</title><content type='html'>So for the last few days Xaelen has been talking about the same thing over and over again. Here's the conversation that is repeated (in the exact same order each time) many times a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xaelen: Raccoon ate avocado&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes Xaelen, the raccoon ate the avocado&lt;br /&gt;Xaelen: Xaelen's avocado&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, the raccoon ate Xaelen's avocado&lt;br /&gt;Xaelen: Meow Meow&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, the raccoon looked like a big cat&lt;br /&gt;Xaelen: Bite you bite you&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, the raccoon could bite you. &lt;br /&gt;Xaelen: Owie&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, if the raccoon bit you, it would hurt.&lt;br /&gt;Xaelen: Down down down&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, the raccoon ran down in to the canyon when we scared him.&lt;br /&gt;Xaelen: Raccoon ate avocado. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear, this is the exact same script each and every time he brings it up. &lt;br /&gt;In case you're wondering, here's what happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night I heard some strange noises in the backyard. I stuck my head out and saw a raccoon eating an avocado that was left in the compost bin. I told Xaelen, come look at the raccoon eating the avocado! As soon as Xaelen poked his head out, the raccoon saw us and scuttled down the side of the canyon behind our house and ran away. All that was left was some bits of the avocado he was chewing on. Xaelen examined it for quite some time. Very excited about the whole raccoon adventure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love how he recounts the experience over and over again, with the same level of enthusiasm each time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we added a new story to retell over and over again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xaelen: Mommy, balloon stuck in a tree&lt;br /&gt;Me: Where?&lt;br /&gt;Xaelen: Right there! (Pointing at a tree behind our house)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh wow! It's stuck!&lt;br /&gt;Xaelen: Xaelen get it! (grabbing any stick that is near by) (Mind you, the tree is at least 30 feet high and in the neighbors yard. But Xaelen is convinced that if he reaches high enough, he can get it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He woke up this morning telling me about the balloon stuck in a tree. At least it wasn't the story about the raccoon eating the avocado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-3604926616198558257?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/3604926616198558257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=3604926616198558257&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3604926616198558257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3604926616198558257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/04/raccoon-ate-avocado.html' title='Raccoon Ate The Avocado'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-2115716880479210087</id><published>2008-04-05T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T11:43:50.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pics from Jan-Mar 2008</title><content type='html'>These are various pictures from the last 2 or 3 months. I think I ALMOST have the hang of actually posting them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/view_slideshow_player?p=577ccdd77fe4c98d0500a0" quality="high" scale="noscale" width="600" height="500" wmode="transparent" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;p=577ccdd77fe4c98d0500a0&amp;skin_id=402&amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="margin:0px;font:12px/13px verdana,arial,sans-serif;line-height:20px;padding-bottom:15px;width:600px;text-align:center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/slideshow_player_link?p=577ccdd77fe4c98d0500a0&amp;skin_id=402&amp;source=slideshow" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/slideshow_player_link_image/577ccdd77fe4c98d0500a0/402.gif" style="border:0px;" width="600" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&amp;utm_source=slideshow&amp;utm_medium=txt5" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none;"&gt;Free MySpace slideshows, photo and video editing at &lt;span style="text-decoration:underline;"&gt;www.OneTrueMedia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&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/7373217931154613726-2115716880479210087?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/2115716880479210087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=2115716880479210087&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2115716880479210087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2115716880479210087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/04/pics.html' title='Pics from Jan-Mar 2008'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-342832719661094900</id><published>2008-04-05T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T11:04:06.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1st Attempt at Video</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=577b8cb05c72e439f2eb6d" quality="high" scale="noscale" width="600" height="526" wmode="window" allowFullScreen="true" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;p=577b8cb05c72e439f2eb6d&amp;skin_id=601&amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="margin:0px;font:12px/13px verdana,arial,sans-serif;line-height:20px;padding-bottom:15px;width:600px;text-align:center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link?p=577b8cb05c72e439f2eb6d&amp;skin_id=601&amp;source=emplay" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link_image/577b8cb05c72e439f2eb6d/601.gif" style="border:0px;" width="600" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&amp;utm_source=emplay&amp;utm_medium=txt3" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none;"&gt;Make video montages at &lt;span style="text-decoration:underline;"&gt;www.OneTrueMedia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Xaelen at the zoo yesterday. Adam took lots of video, but for some reason this is the clip that I'm super fond of. It's just so very Xaelen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-342832719661094900?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/342832719661094900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=342832719661094900&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/342832719661094900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/342832719661094900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/04/1st-attempt-at-video.html' title='1st Attempt at Video'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-3843763439505616078</id><published>2008-03-26T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T08:51:13.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Xaelen's 1st Ambulance Ride</title><content type='html'>I could have named today's post "Xaelen's first ER visit", but that would be false as we've already been to the ER once, when he was about a year old and sounded like he was wheezing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have named today's post "Our first ambulance ride", but that would also be false, as I've had the pleasure of riding in one after I was crushed slightly being in the 1st row of a Morrissey concert when rabid fans rushed the stage. But that's neither here nor there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's post is all about our ordeal last night. Adam has been out of town for weeks now, coming home on weekends and then flying out again to his next destination. I've been managing with the help of my mother in law (god bless her!) and my grandma. Last night it was just X and I in his room and my MIL in her RV outside. I've been sleeping in his room when Adam is out of town.  X has had a runny nose for a day or so and a bit of a little cough. Nothing special, I wasn't too worried. I was laying there listening to him sleep when I realized his breathing had changed. It sounded more labored and somewhat wheezy. I wasn't yet worried, just aware that things sounded different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about 20 minutes of listening to his breathing get worse and worse, all the sudden he begins to cough. Like a barking dog. Like a seal. Like something he had never coughed like before. And he coughed, and he coughed, and it was getting worse. And his breathing sounded like his entire throat had closed up. He looked red, somewhat sweaty and was crying. But not his usual crying, but rather a choking cry that made me realize things were DEFINETLY not right. I didn't know what was happening, but I'm carrying around my toddler in my arms with him sounding like he was fighting to breath in between bouts of barking coughs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran outside with him in my arms, knocked on MIL's RV and said "Something's not right, I don't know what to do". She agreed he sounded strange. That was enough for me. I had her find my cell phone and dialed 911. I've never done that before. The hold for someone to come on the line was ABSURD! What if something TRULY tragic had happened? Why is there such a delay getting someone on the line? Anyhow. 911 finally answered, patched me through to medical help which arrived minutes later. By now X had mostly calmed down, still breathing funny and coughing, but less dire seeming. 7 Emergency Medical Personell arrived. 3 vehicles. Wow. More than I had expected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They checked him out, took all his vitals, listened to his breathing and proclaimed he probably has &lt;a href="http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/croup/DS00312"&gt;croup&lt;/a&gt;. They all recommended he get to the ER and be seen. Do you want us to take you? Or would you rather drive yourself? I asked the lead medic, is one way better than the other? And he states that in his oppinion it is better to have him looked after in the ambulance than to strap him in the car in case he has another coughing fit and needs help breathing. Ok. In that case, let's go in the ambulance. (I don't even want to know what my bill will be. The idea of it makes my head spin.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip in the ambulance was fun for X. He took his Elmo with him and while they administrated his breathing treatment, he would make sure Elmo got some as well. (So thoughtful of him!) We arrived at the ER at Children's Hospital, the wait was minimal and he was seen within minutes of arriving. He did indeed have croup. He was treated with an oral steroid and was released after 20 minutes of being there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, lessons learned? I'm not sure 911 was necessary, but on the other hand - you don't mess around when your kid has breathing problems. Breathing is essential to life. You stop breathing = You stop living. I will obviously know for next time that barking babies = croup. But I'm glad I have good health insurance that covers everything under the sun. I'm glad that X is ok. I'm glad we live within 10 minutes of Children's Hospital. And I'm glad that I now know what to do with barking babies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-3843763439505616078?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/3843763439505616078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=3843763439505616078&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3843763439505616078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3843763439505616078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/03/xaelens-1st-ambulance-ride.html' title='Xaelen&apos;s 1st Ambulance Ride'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-4479807744563039162</id><published>2008-03-15T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T13:57:13.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disc Golf</title><content type='html'>I played in my 4th disc golf tournament this weekend. I didn't do as well as I would have liked to do, but I'm none-the-less truly happy with my performance. I am, afterall, pregnant, so my physical abilities are an itty bit affected. I came in 3rd and I feel like my game is developing more and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also hired my doula today! Her name is Dawn and I'm hoping she will be our partner in making my VBAC a reality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pics to follow... soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-4479807744563039162?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/4479807744563039162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=4479807744563039162&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4479807744563039162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4479807744563039162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/03/disc-golf.html' title='Disc Golf'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-811725456085711349</id><published>2008-03-07T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T08:37:03.911-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Business of Being Born - Part 1</title><content type='html'>Last night I finally had a chance to see The Business of Being Born. I think I cried through at least 40% of it. Not tears of sadness, per se. Tears of release perhaps. Rather cathartic. Obviously, I'm still dealing with my previous birth with Xaelen. Don't get me wrong - I have a healthy, happy, amazing toddler out of all this. But it was everything that I had wished would never happen to me. Intervention after intervention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess today, I really wanted to talk about something I don't usually talk about. I wanted to address the intervention that actually happened back in 1990 or perhaps it was 1991. The actual dates are lost on me now. I realize that my road to a c-section did not begin on May 5th when I went in to labor. My road to a c-section started when I was 16 or 17 years old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost my virginity right before 11th grade started. I was in love, or I guess what was possible to be love at so young an age. I had sex. The only fear plaguing my mind at the time was the prospect of getting pregnant - god forbid. There was no pregnancy, so I breathed a sigh of relief and went on with my young and naive little life. I visited a gynecologist sometime that year. Routine pap. Nothing fancy. My first pap spear, and wouldn't you know it - it came back abnormal. 1 punch biopsy later (you really don't want to know how painful that was), I was determined to have HPV which leads to cervical cancer if not treated. I had &lt;a href="http://www.womenshealthchannel.com/cervicaldysplasia/index.shtml"&gt;cervical dysplasia&lt;/a&gt;. This was way more than I could really even deal with at this age. I was told the only way to treat this and come out healthy on the other end was to have &lt;a href="http://womenshealth.about.com/cs/surgery/a/cryosurgtherapy.htm"&gt;cryotherapy&lt;/a&gt; (again, you really don't want to know how painful this was either). I did what I was told to do. It was painfully, emotionally and physically. It made me feel broken. What's worse, my boyfriend at the time seemed to claim no responsibility. In fact, he questioned whether it was even from him that this was derived. Sad. He was the only one, and would remain that way for years to come. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years I had routine paps done. In the beginning it was twice a year. Then just once a year. Clean, every one of them. Over a decade of normal paps. I was in the clear. It never occurred to me that this situation would rear it's head again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it did. On May 5th, I went in to labor with Xaelen. For those who don't know my birth story, I never dilated. When checking my cervix, nurses couldn't even tell if I was 10 cms dilated or 0. That's common with a scarred cervix. My cervix is scarred. My brokenness wailed down upon me again. They tried Pitocin, which required an Epidural, which led to distress, which led to this, which led to that, which led to a long corridor leading to an operating room where Xaelen was removed from me. I didn't birth him. I had surgery to remove something from my uterus which happened to be my son. Sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more research I've done, the more I've come to realize that my c-section might be a direct result of that chain of events back in 1990. With this next baby, I might be fighting an unwinnable battle to birth him naturally. I don't know, and no one else seems to know for sure either. We can only try and see what happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I bring all this up, is that The Business of Being Born addresses what's flawed in American hospitals when it comes to birth. That avoiding unnecessary intervention can be achieved more likely through homebirths, midwives, birthing centers, etc. I can't take that risk. I may never dilate on my own. I may rupture. Anything can happen. So I'm left with birthing at the hospital and hoping beyond hope that I can do this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-811725456085711349?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/811725456085711349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=811725456085711349&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/811725456085711349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/811725456085711349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/03/business-of-being-born-part-1.html' title='Business of Being Born - Part 1'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-3537624494702082993</id><published>2008-02-28T11:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T12:29:02.168-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cravings &amp; Tandem Nursing</title><content type='html'>I want pickled green beans. SO BAD! Actually, I am craving anything pickled although pickled green beans from New Orleans are my favorite. My food intake has been stranger than last time. I'm craving more and more ethnic food. I've always loved ethnic food, but this time I seem to be living off of it. It also might be the reason for my headaches I've been having. The spices and salt content in ethnic food have been known to give pregnant chicks headaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another topic that's on my mind: Tandem Nursing. So Xaelen sort of, kind of, mostly weaned about a month ago. I say "sort of" because I have no milk left. No milk means no nursing. But he is still obsessed with "boobie" and wants "boobie" even if just to hold and nuzzle up against. The problem is, he'll say "just holding" and then slowly sneak his mouth over to my nipple and begin suckling. I don't have the heart to cut him off completely. I've been reading the book "Adventures in Tandem Nursing" and I'm thinking this might be the route we go with, although I'm not sure Adam is going to be super excited about it. I'll keep y'all posted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-3537624494702082993?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/3537624494702082993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=3537624494702082993&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3537624494702082993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3537624494702082993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/02/cravings-tandem-nursing.html' title='Cravings &amp; Tandem Nursing'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-1896646199358147425</id><published>2008-02-27T08:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T08:23:27.855-08:00</updated><title type='text'>3rd day in a row</title><content type='html'>Well, it appears that 6:15am is the magic number. That appears to be what Xaelen has chosen as his new wakeup time. It wasn't a fluke! It's been 3 mornings now, in a row! And of course, he is sleeping by himself which makes it even sweeter! It only took 21 months, and we've finally gotten him to sleep through the night, by himself, and wake at a decent hour. Woohoo! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess we get to do it all again with #2. Speaking of #2, we had our big ultrasound last night. Everything looks good - organs are functioning properly and the penis is still there - so #2 is certain to be a boy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My belly has official popped and I look fully pregnant, rather than just fat. The belly looks very similar to the way it looked with Xaelen. It sits up high and straight out. If you see me from behind - I don't really look pregnant. The horrid symptoms of early pregnancy have worn off, so I'm officially in the pleasant part of pregnancy - glow, energy, joy. I'm sure in a few months I'll be in the delightful last stage of pregnancy where I will feel like a beached whale with heartburn, backaches and a constantly full bladder. Such fun to look forward to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-1896646199358147425?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/1896646199358147425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=1896646199358147425&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1896646199358147425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1896646199358147425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/02/3rd-day-in-row.html' title='3rd day in a row'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-2579170660893781408</id><published>2008-02-25T07:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T07:58:22.418-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy day!</title><content type='html'>Xaelen is an early morning riser. Really early. Regardless of when he goes to sleep in the evening, he always wakes up EARLY. Usually that would be between 4:30 and 5:30am. The sad part is, he never really goes back to sleep after that, no matter who cuddles with him or whose bed he's in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I woke up at 6:15am in a bit of a panic. *I* woke up. Not *someone* woke me up with his crying "Maaaaaaaaaaamaaaaaaaaaaa". I actually woke up earlier than him! I should have been ecstatic and reveling in the moment. Instead, I got worried. LOL! I tiptoed in to his room, took a look and found a snoring Xaelen with his butt up in the air draped over his favorite pillow. Hurray! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tiptoed quietly out, but I guess not quiet enough. As I was about 20 feet from his door, I heard "Mama?". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm stoked! Can we have a repeat of this tomorrow morning? Please? Pretty please? With sugar on top?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-2579170660893781408?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/2579170660893781408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=2579170660893781408&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2579170660893781408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2579170660893781408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-day.html' title='Happy day!'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-4211245580441557758</id><published>2008-02-04T20:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T20:02:47.971-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I swear, I love this man....</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2fZHou18Cdk&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2fZHou18Cdk&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-4211245580441557758?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/4211245580441557758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=4211245580441557758&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4211245580441557758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4211245580441557758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-swear-i-love-this-man.html' title='I swear, I love this man....'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-3696152933147556978</id><published>2008-01-30T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T14:41:05.329-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frivolity</title><content type='html'>I just received a big box of maternity clothes in the mail that I ordered. That was the most excitement I've had in weeks! There's nothing like new clothes to make one feel better. My regular clothes just don't fit anymore and I decided to stop pretending they did. There was a huge sale online and I bought a bunch. 12 new articles of clothing just arrived. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt; online shopping!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-3696152933147556978?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/3696152933147556978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=3696152933147556978&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3696152933147556978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3696152933147556978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/01/frivolity.html' title='Frivolity'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-1977724061039080383</id><published>2008-01-29T08:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T08:48:41.075-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here I am.</title><content type='html'>I've been avoiding blogging. Does anyone really want to see the yucky side of being a wife, a mother, a human. Blah. I've been dealing with emotional stuff. I guess I have a hard time sharing that kind of stuff. It's much easier painting a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rosey&lt;/span&gt; picture than it is to paint in dark colors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Today would have been my due date had I not had a miscarriage. I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with it. It's just something I still think about, and perhaps always will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) A woman whose &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; journey I've been following went in to labor a few weeks ago. She was attempting a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;HBAC&lt;/span&gt; (home birth after c-section). It didn't go well. After a failed 20 hour labor at home, she was rushed to an emergency c-section at the hospital. The baby was stillborn. Her uterus ruptured. She had to have a hysterectomy. And that's how that ended. I'm still shaken by this. A lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Work's been busy. And draining. And my stupid clothes don't fit me anymore. And I don't have any maternity clothes for work since my last pregnancy I was still in college and mostly just wore sweats, jeans, t-shirts, etc. Now I have to dress up and nothing freaking fits! Nothing a little online shopping can't fix, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Marriage is hard. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, not the actual being married part. But the part where I wind up feeling pulled in 50 million directions all at once. I have to be a good mother and since I work full time, I try and spend as much time with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; before his bedtime at 6pm. I work, so I give 100% from 8am-5pm. I have to be a pregnant chick, so I try and rest as much as I can - usually collapsing at 7pm only to wake again at 5am to start the whole thing over again. Now, I ask you, how do I fit in the being a good wife part? I also failed to mention the being a good housekeeper part, the good cook part, the daughter duties, the friend duties. You catch my drift. Will someone please stop time for like 2 or 3 hours so I can catch up with my husband?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;. That was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;therapeutic&lt;/span&gt;. I'm done venting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-1977724061039080383?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/1977724061039080383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=1977724061039080383&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1977724061039080383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1977724061039080383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/01/here-i-am.html' title='Here I am.'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-1152916586592697469</id><published>2008-01-10T02:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T03:03:29.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions</title><content type='html'>Today is Thursday and it seems like a good day to share some confessions. In no particular order and mostly just of the top of my head, here is my short list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. At 20 months, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; is still nursing. Not actively, mind you. Nor for any true nutritional value, given the fact that being pregnant has all but dried me up of milk. But he nurses none-the-less. I think he needs it still - on some level, and I'm perfectly fine with it. It's  not round the clock or anything, at this point we're down to 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nursings&lt;/span&gt; (at most) a day. The morning one being the most important for him. He anxiously bolts to the room I sleep in sometime between 6:00 and 6:30 to curl up with me in bed and have his booby time. Which leads me to my next confession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. At 20 months, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; does not yet sleep through the night, on his own, in his bed. Our big accomplishment on this front was extricating myself out of the sleeping with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; arrangement. We have co-slept with our child in some form or another since he was born.  He only slept in his crib for about 3 or 4 months (and even that was not full-time). By eliminating mommy from the co-sleeping, he at least has started sleeping through the night (in bed by 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; PM and waking at 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; AM). Unfortunately, he still needs SOMEONE in the bed with him in order to actually accomplish this. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Adazm&lt;/span&gt; has graciously accepted the job as this SOMEONE. They have a good sleeping routine down, but unfortunately, this means Mommy sleeps alone. Sad, but true. As I say to anything that I'd like to improve "We're working on it".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I am terrified of the birthing process that is in my future this coming July.  I've never actually birthed anything in the traditional manner, given my cervix never dilated last time. No matter how you look at it, I'm considered high risk to the medical powers that be.  Either I'm scheduled for a repeat c-section which carries risks and worries associated with major abdominal surgery, or I attempt a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; which carries the risks of uterine rupture. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;.. doesn't that just sound like a walk in the park?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I am also very nervous about adding another child to our life. Mind you, I know that adding another to our brood is VERY important (both for us and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt;), but actually making it a reality and all the logistics that go along with it is scaring the hell out of me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; is 20 months old and I just recently started to feel like we've got this parenting balancing act down somewhat. Add a newborn to this equation and I feel like all the spinning plates I have balanced on my nose are going to come crashing down on me. You know? But as with everything else in life, you just deal with it I guess. Ultimately it all works out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. And last confession. It is 2:54am, and I'm awake. One of the lovely symptoms of being pregnant for me is the interrupted sleep. I just can't seem to sleep through the night anymore. Sometime around midnight or 1am, the need to pee wakes me. I answer nature's call and attempt to go back to bed. I then lie there - tossing, turning, going over the days tasks, thinking of tomorrow's tasks, and countless mundane other thoughts. Eventually (sometimes hours later), I roll over and fall asleep.  Not the case tonight. Tomorrow, or rather TODAY is going to be a rough one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-1152916586592697469?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/1152916586592697469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=1152916586592697469&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1152916586592697469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/1152916586592697469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/01/confessions.html' title='Confessions'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-2178653390183606785</id><published>2008-01-09T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T09:03:12.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday, January 9th 2008</title><content type='html'>What is today? Today is many things..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. It is Wednesday and therefore catered lunch day at work. My company orders lunch from a restaurant of our choice and we eat together talking about whatever is going on in the world/our company. It's always a midweek treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. It is also hump day. That middle of the week day that always seems longer than the rest of the days of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. It is also the day that my brother Mark and cousin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ilana&lt;/span&gt; arrive in San Diego for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;week long&lt;/span&gt; visit with the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. It is also the day of the week that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; goes to his great grandma's apartment for the day. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Adazm&lt;/span&gt; works on Wednesdays at the disc golf course, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; gets fed lots and lots of tasty treats!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. It is also the 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of January. On this day, 5 years ago, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Adazm&lt;/span&gt; and I exchanged our wedding vows. Just the two of us - under the gazebo - in the early afternoon sun - in magical &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Negril&lt;/span&gt;, Jamaica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. It is also the day I ALMOST forgot that it was my anniversary. I always laughed when I would hear/read stories about spouses forgetting things like that. How do you forgot such a thing? Well, then we had a kid, and a house, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;responsibilities&lt;/span&gt;, and all the other minutia that occupies ones brain. And then I almost forgot. ALMOST. I didn't realize it was the 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; until I got to work, looked at my calendar and said "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;DOH&lt;/span&gt;!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my dear husband, if you are reading this -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being in my life. Thank you for saying yes when I proposed. Thank you for having the patience to put up with me day in and day out. Thank you for keeping calm when I'm blowing a gasket. Thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for being an engaging &amp;amp; ever present father. Thank you for helping me conceive our sparkling gem of a child (not to mention the one on the way). I love you more than I probably ever convey, I love you more than I am even able to fathom, and most importantly I love you more each and every day that goes by. Thank you for the last 5 years and the countless years to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-2178653390183606785?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/2178653390183606785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=2178653390183606785&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2178653390183606785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2178653390183606785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/01/wednesday-january-9th-2008.html' title='Wednesday, January 9th 2008'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-6327737938967416984</id><published>2008-01-08T08:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:52:09.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random thoughts for a Tuesday morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R4OxfZkpMbI/AAAAAAAAAJs/rwhZibCRp1Y/s1600-h/uspic001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153157551640621490" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R4OxfZkpMbI/AAAAAAAAAJs/rwhZibCRp1Y/s200/uspic001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have so many topics I could write about today. I don't even know where to begin. For starters, since I'm pregnant, let's talk about the pregnancy! I visited with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OBGYN&lt;/span&gt; last night for my followup ultrasound. The heart is beating! There's a head! And legs! And arms! The one thing that is absent is the hemorrhage! It appears it has either been reabsorbed by my body, or perhaps just shrunk to a size that makes it a non issue! Happy day indeed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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;div&gt;Next let me just say, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; is adorable. His personality is coming through more and more every day. I never thought I would say this, but I really think he's learned how to manipulate all of those around him. And I say this with all the love in my heart. I don't believe manipulation is a negative thing. It's just a fact of life. He's really getting good at extracting the emotional reaction he wants from whoever he is interacting with. Something tells me that will be a valuable skill to have living in our world. I just worry (there's that word again!) that he doesn't solely depend on said manipulation, and actually work on his other skills as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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;div&gt;Moving on to another topic, I've recently discovered Google Analytics. Has anyone ever used it? So much information, I'm not even sure how to use all of it. But I'm intrigued and really enjoying learning about it. If anyone has any information on it or advice, I would appreciate any and all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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;div&gt;Oh, and can I just say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OBAMA&lt;/span&gt;! I'm flying on cloud nine with his success in Iowa and his (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hopeful&lt;/span&gt;) success in New Hampshire. Ever since hearing him speak at the California Democratic Convention last summer here in San Diego, I'm enamored with him. I'm inspired. I'm uplifted. I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;politically&lt;/span&gt; reinvigorated. Oh, the possibilities! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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;div&gt;I'm off to make lots of phone calls this morning. We're looking for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; to start preschool in the next few months, as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Adazm&lt;/span&gt; (the Stay At Home Dad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Extraordinaire&lt;/span&gt;) is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;beginning&lt;/span&gt; his travel season for work and we're about to be screwed unless we find some care provider for him SOON. Think good thoughts for us!&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/7373217931154613726-6327737938967416984?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/6327737938967416984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=6327737938967416984&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6327737938967416984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6327737938967416984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-have-so-many-topics-i-could-write.html' title='Random thoughts for a Tuesday morning'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R4OxfZkpMbI/AAAAAAAAAJs/rwhZibCRp1Y/s72-c/uspic001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-3470217843563219107</id><published>2008-01-03T09:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T09:32:15.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I worry... Therefore I am...</title><content type='html'>I've been feeling worried a bit lately. Worry is not a new concept for me, given that I worry about most everything in my life. I worry about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Xaelen's&lt;/span&gt; health and safety. I worry about Adam's health and safety. I worry about my own as well. I worry that we'll not have enough money, I worry that we'll not have enough time. Anyhow, you get the point. I'm a worrywart. The current worry of the day is a miscarriage. I really have been feeling pretty optimistic about this pregnancy. We've seen the heartbeat now 2 times - once at 7 weeks and once at 9 weeks. The last time I miscarried, I was measuring 7 weeks, so we've obviously come further than we did last time. I was feeling sure and confident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Adam told me about a friend of ours who was pregnant and that they just miscarried at 10 1/2 weeks. I'm 10 1/2 weeks. Suddenly the worry washed over me again. I hear the chances are 1 in 5. What if I'm that 1 of 5 again? I know worrying doesn't benefit anyone. I know a positive attitude can go a long way. How do I put that in practice though, if worrying is what I do best? My next ultrasound is next Tuesday and the day can't come soon enough. I'm suddenly terrified to go in to that office. I'm scared of laying there in the darkened room, ultrasound wand inside me, slowly scanning the insides of my womb. What if the words I hear are "I'm so sorry." I've already heard those words before and I have to say I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; think I can bear to hear them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, I've been really impressed with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Xaelen's&lt;/span&gt; blossoming sense of humor. He is one funny little cat. One of these days, when I can find the time to sit with a computer and our camera in the same room, I will upload the videos and pictures that demonstrate the funny that is our son. Until then, you'll have to take my word for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-3470217843563219107?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/3470217843563219107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=3470217843563219107&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3470217843563219107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/3470217843563219107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-worry-therefore-i-am.html' title='I worry... Therefore I am...'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-8849843734706003875</id><published>2008-01-02T10:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T11:06:35.914-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The post holiday wrap-up</title><content type='html'>Another holiday season has come and gone. Thank goodness! The holidays always overwhelm me a bit. Too much food, too much drink, too many people, too many things to do, not enough rest. This year was no exception. It was a wonderful time as well, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The holidays began this year with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hanukkah&lt;/span&gt; at my parent's house. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; loved the lighting of the candles, my mom saying the prayer, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;latkes&lt;/span&gt;, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hanukkah&lt;/span&gt; songs, the presents. Since he first experienced &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hanukkah&lt;/span&gt;, he exclaims "Na-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;na&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;na&lt;/span&gt;" (his version of the word Ha-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;nu&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;kkah&lt;/span&gt;) every time he sees candles lit. Any kind of candles. All candles. We lit candles in the house one night to have "mood" lighting and he squealed "Na-Na-Na!" when he saw them. Too cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then had Christmas at my in-laws. Wonderful food, beautiful tree, family and friends. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; got to open presents, eat turkey and dance to holiday music. He can say "turkey", but it comes out sounding a lot like when he says "dirty". That's one of his favorite words right now. Everything is dirty. He is constantly commenting on state of things being dirty. Even when things get wet, they are dirty. His other favorite word is "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Owie&lt;/span&gt;". Everything has an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;owie&lt;/span&gt; these days. He broke a stick, and exclaimed "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Owie&lt;/span&gt;" for the stick. A grape had a little bruise on it, he commented "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Owie&lt;/span&gt;". His stuffed Snoopy had a spot of juice on it, thus also having an "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Owie&lt;/span&gt;". Great. My son is a neat-freak who's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;obsessed&lt;/span&gt; with injuries. Kidding. He's a great kid who is obviously very observant of his surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Years was a fun trip up to the central coast of California - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Morro&lt;/span&gt; Bay to be exact. It was beautiful. We drove up to Los Angeles on Friday night after work to stay with my in-laws. Got up the next morning bright and early and headed north. After about 3 hours we made it to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Attescadero&lt;/span&gt;, CA to play some disc golf. We played 1 full round which took about 3 hours. There were about 15 of us playing and it was loads of fun. After we proceeded to the house that was rented for the next few days in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Morro&lt;/span&gt; Bay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house was amazing. It was huge. It needed to be huge, as there were about 20 of us staying there. Friends from all over California had converged on this house - people from Oakland, LA &amp;amp; San Diego. There were multiple bedrooms and many communal areas of the house to hang out. We had a small room to ourselves with 2 twin beds. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; slept happily 1 night with daddy and 1 night with mommy, until we realized -&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Doh&lt;/span&gt;! Let's put the dang beds together and make a king sized bed for us all to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food at this house was amazing. Everyone pitched in and we gorged on ribs with all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;fixins&lt;/span&gt; the 1st night, a giant roast pork with all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;fixins&lt;/span&gt; the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; night, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;turducken&lt;/span&gt; (for those not in the know, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; a turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken. - I really thought it was a gross concept, but on my plate, it looked much like a thanksgiving day turkey and tasted lovely). Large communal breakfasts were had as well. Eggs, bacon, and french toast the 1st morning. Home baked blueberry muffins and banana bread, with grits and gumbo on the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; morning. And something that we missed on the 3rd morning. Poor Adam ate virtually nothing. As most of you know, he doesn't eat meat and this was pretty much a meat-fest.  I tried making him plates of this and that, but suffice it to say, my poor husband fasted the entire time. Overall it was a wonderful adventure. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; loved being surrounded by people who would play catch with him, read to him and basically &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;oooh&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;aaah&lt;/span&gt; over him. He loves being the center of attention and he was certainly just that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The actual evening of New Years eve, I was so horrendously nauseated (I swear, I don't know why they call it morning sickness as I never feel sick in the morning). I went to bed with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; around 7pm and awoke at 11:55pm to ring in the New Year with all the intoxicated folks at the other end of the house. At about 12:07am, I was back in bed, toasty and warm next to my favorite little man. I would have been quite content to ring in the New Year in bed with my snoring toddler next to me, but I felt compelled to put in an appearance at the party down the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;hall&lt;/span&gt; . It's hard being around drunk people when you are completely sober. For starters, drunk people are loud. Lord knows, I'm loud when I'm drunk. But somehow it seems so much louder when sober. Another issue with sobriety and being around intoxication is how hard it is for me to relate to people. They are all on this communal high from the champagne and cocktails, and I'm on a totally different page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, New Years day, we got up early (not by choice - but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; is a 6am riser no matter when he goes to bed), packed up the car and headed back in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Southerly&lt;/span&gt; direction. We made many stops along the way, as traveling with a toddler is not as quick a process as one would hope. We saw friends along the way and finally made it home around 6pm with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; totally freaking out in the backseat. I think the kid finally had enough. He was tired and bored and annoyed at being in his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;carseat&lt;/span&gt; for the last 2 hours. He was ecstatic to be home and immediately ran around picking up all his stray balls around the house and throwing them with vigor. He slept well last night and ran to our bedroom at his usual 6am(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;) time slot to have his booby time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah. It's good to be home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-8849843734706003875?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/8849843734706003875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=8849843734706003875&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/8849843734706003875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/8849843734706003875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2008/01/post-holiday-wrap-up.html' title='The post holiday wrap-up'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-6825599548788244240</id><published>2007-12-21T09:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T13:57:03.395-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Friday! Hurray!</title><content type='html'>So I read today, that if you post in your blog daily, more people will visit. You know, that actually makes sense. Because the blogs I actively read, are the ones that post daily. Duh! So, I'm thinking more posting is in order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; is over his cold/virus/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;diarrhea&lt;/span&gt; thing he had. Now if his 4 canines can PLEASE hurry up and pop through, we'd be golden. They look very swollen and as if they will erupt at any moment. Maybe this weekend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; also visited &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;SeaWorld&lt;/span&gt; yesterday. He apparently loved the penguins, the flamingos and most importantly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;SHAMU&lt;/span&gt;! He watched the entire &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Shamu&lt;/span&gt; show and constantly exclaimed "Whoa!" every few minutes. He had a cracker in his hand and his mouth open as though he was going to put it in, but was so distracted by the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;wondrous&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Shamu&lt;/span&gt; that it never quite made its way in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; also visited the cardiologist this week. After a chest x-ray, a EKG, and a short physical - he was declared perfect! Well shucks, I could have told them that! The murmur turned out to be just a garden variety type and poses no risks to him. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Woohoo&lt;/span&gt;! We also learned that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; is an amazing patient. He let the doctor probe him, stick EKG thingies on him, take his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;x-ray&lt;/span&gt;, all without flinching and all without crying. Now I ask, how do we make that happen at home? I can't even change his diaper without having to have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;WWF&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;smackdown&lt;/span&gt; occur on the floor. I think he likes an audience, so as long as someone is observing him, he's on his best behavior. I obviously need to invite more people over to "observe" him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I visited with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;OBGYN&lt;/span&gt; this week as well. We still have a heartbeat! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Hallelujah&lt;/span&gt;! I'm measuring 9 weeks and 1 day today. Great! Fingers crossed. The only bad thing was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;subchorionic&lt;/span&gt; hemorrhage was still present and somewhat larger than last time. The doctor is hopeful that it will be reabsorbed by my body sometime between now and 20 weeks. Let's all think good thoughts, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also visited a few doctors who are open to the idea of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt;. Both are allowing me to try, but I have to say, with so many rules and restrictions placed upon me, I'm wondering how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; friendly they really are. Both have said they won't let me go a day past my due date and will automatically schedule me for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;RCS&lt;/span&gt; on my due date. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;.. I'm just not sold on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have one more opinion to go. A certain wonderful doctor who's been referred by everyone and their mother. I kid you not. This man is supposed to be the end all-be all of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; doctors. The only draw back is that his office is about 30 miles from my home. But hey, if he can help me with my desired birth - then I'll drive to the end of the world and back. My appointment is scheduled for January 10. Please let this be the one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's it for now. I'm working on posting some new pictures and new video of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt;. Still learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Merry!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-6825599548788244240?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/6825599548788244240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=6825599548788244240&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6825599548788244240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/6825599548788244240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2007/12/its-friday-hurray.html' title='It&apos;s Friday! Hurray!'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-7541468468071494586</id><published>2007-12-13T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T11:15:56.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise Surprise.</title><content type='html'>I've been avoiding blogging about this, mostly because I'm so frustrated that I can't quite put in to words what I'm feeling. When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Xaelen&lt;/span&gt; was born, over 19 months ago, I had a c-section. It was unplanned and unwanted and had a very unpleasant and painful recovery from it to boot. I did not want to be cut. I wanted to labor on a birth ball, I wanted to labor with the scent of lavender oil in my nostrils, I wanted to labor as I listened to peaceful music, I wanted to push that little life out of me - the way that women have been doing for millennium. It didn't happen. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took months to mostly accept things as they were. The one thing that really kept me going was the promise from my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OBGYN&lt;/span&gt; that we can try again and next time we could try for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean). She told me that as long as I go in to labor myself (no intervention, no induction, no augmentation) that we would just see what happens and entertain the idea of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let's fast-forward to my 1st prenatal appointment with this new pregnancy. After a mostly routine appointment, I am getting my bag of goodies that all pregnant women receive when visiting their doctors and the doctor casually says "Oh, by the way, you are aware of our new policy?" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;... Policy? What Policy? "Well, we made a collective decision here in our practice that we will automatically schedule everyone who's had a c-section for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;RCS&lt;/span&gt; (Repeat Cesarean Section)" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;WHA&lt;/span&gt;?!?! Are you kidding me? "No &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;exceptions&lt;/span&gt;?", I ask? "No, I'm sorry" is the response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. My. God. All those thoughts of feeling broken by the last c-section came as a wave over me again. I'm tainted. No birthing center will take me. My own &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;OBGYN&lt;/span&gt; who was supposed to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt; friendly, won't take me. What am I to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, what to do indeed. For starters, I'm empowering myself with knowledge. First thing on my list of empowerment, I am attending an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ICAN&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;a href="http://ican-online.net/"&gt;http://ican-online.net/&lt;/a&gt;) meeting here in San Diego. I am researching who else in this city will allow for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;VBAC&lt;/span&gt;. I have joined a bunch of online groups that address &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;VBACs&lt;/span&gt;. I will not have surgery pushed on me without first seeing what my body can and will do. I will keep an open mind. I will keep my body healthy and strong in order to prepare for this. I will hire a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;doula&lt;/span&gt;. I will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;consult&lt;/span&gt; with a midwife. I can do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;. Enough of that soapbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me add to all this, during my 1st prenatal visit, the ultrasound showed a small amount of bleeding where the placenta is/will be. This is called a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;subchorionic&lt;/span&gt; hemorrhage. I'm hoping/praying that this will be reabsorbed by my body in the coming weeks. As a precaution, they are doing another ultrasound next week to see if the bleeding has stopped, shrank or expanded. I'm hoping the hemorrhage is gone. Please hope the same for me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-7541468468071494586?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/7541468468071494586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=7541468468071494586&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/7541468468071494586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/7541468468071494586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2007/12/surprise-surprise.html' title='Surprise Surprise.'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-2028262272664820421</id><published>2007-12-05T14:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T14:29:38.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time no see.</title><content type='html'>I've been M.I.A. for far too many days. I've been present, just not in the sense of actually writing in my blog.  Adazm (DH) keeps commenting on things I say around the house with the following remark "that sounds blog-worthy" as though my thoughts should make their way to my blog. He's probably right. Instead of letting things spin around in my head, I could be putting them in print, thus ridding my poor head from having things spin around in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm lazy. Or maybe tired. Or maybe pregnant. There you go! I'm pregnant and therefore haven't really felt up to things. I get up, I go to work, I come home, I feed Xaelen, put him to bed and then collapse in to night-night land. I've been falling asleep before 8pm for many nights now and waking up at 6am. Believe it or not, it STILL doesn't feel like enough sleep. I know this first trimester is supposed to be like this and I truly can't wait til the 2nd one starts up. I remember REALLY enjoying the boost in energy level, less desire to constantly upchuck and overall better mood.  I will officially enter my 2nd trimester on January 1, 2008. Amen!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-2028262272664820421?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/2028262272664820421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=2028262272664820421&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2028262272664820421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/2028262272664820421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2007/12/long-time-no-see.html' title='Long time no see.'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-4984475010742894125</id><published>2007-11-19T13:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:52:09.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R0IDdqTdZII/AAAAAAAAAJY/5atSkl8QhoY/s1600-h/PregnancyTest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134670333262783618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R0IDdqTdZII/AAAAAAAAAJY/5atSkl8QhoY/s200/PregnancyTest.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R0IDUKTdZHI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/FSxQDJtQBdo/s1600-h/PregnancyTest.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And so it begins. These are the two little lines that tell me that things are about to get very interesting. Not really sure when I'm due exactly, but it does appear it will be sometime in July 08.  My first OB appointment is on December 7, 2007 so we'll have a clearer picture of things then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&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/7373217931154613726-4984475010742894125?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/4984475010742894125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=4984475010742894125&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4984475010742894125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/4984475010742894125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2007/11/photo-sharing-and-video-hosting-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R0IDdqTdZII/AAAAAAAAAJY/5atSkl8QhoY/s72-c/PregnancyTest.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-565419128362918244</id><published>2007-11-12T14:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T14:30:16.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been thinking about New Year's resolutions lately. Not really sure why, considering it's only November, but thinking about them none-the-less. I've been starting to compile a list of things I would like to resolve to do come 2008. Here's my list so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Take better care of my skin, teeth &amp;amp; bones. Nothing shows one's age more than those 3 things. So in order to accomplish that, I'm going to floss more, use more sunscreen and work on my posture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Teach by example. There is nothing worse than a parent preaching some concept to their kid, only to turn around and do the same thing they're preaching against. Welcome to my childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Nurture my marriage. Sometimes the people you love the most get taken for granted. Or maybe that's just &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; that does that. Either way, it's time to nurture the relationship that means so much to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Read outside of my box. In college, I read textbooks. When I was pregnant, I read childbirth books. When I became a mom, I read parenting books. I've always been rather utilitarian with my reading, perhaps it's time for a good novel!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Work on my vegetable garden. We've been in our house for 4 years now, and every year I intend to get my garden going, and every year I wind up with just radishes and tomatoes. I really need to plant all the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;other&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; seeds I have saved up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Have the floor redone in our house.  We keep putting it off, but it's &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; time. Hardwood in the dining room, living room &amp;amp; hallway. Cork flooring in the family room. Still haven't decided what the kid(s) room should have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Go away for a vacation, without Xaelen. As of yet, we haven't left Xaelen with anyone overnight.  Jamaica is really calling my name. Perhaps for our 5 year wedding anniversary in January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Have Xaelen sleep in his room, by himself, the whole night, without waking. Is this possible? I really really really need this to be possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep adding to this list as more ideas develop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-565419128362918244?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/565419128362918244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=565419128362918244&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/565419128362918244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/565419128362918244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2007/11/ive-been-thinking-about-new-years.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-5488120952454437304</id><published>2007-11-12T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:52:10.151-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I wonder whose cheeks he has?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/Rzi6OsTfguI/AAAAAAAAAIo/-KaX770IJK8/s1600-h/Xaelen+&amp;amp;+mama2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132056536962532066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/Rzi6OsTfguI/AAAAAAAAAIo/-KaX770IJK8/s400/Xaelen+%26+mama2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is my favorite picture currently. I just want to eat him up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/7373217931154613726-5488120952454437304?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/5488120952454437304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=5488120952454437304&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5488120952454437304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/5488120952454437304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2007/11/this-is-my-favorite-picture-currently.html' title='I wonder whose cheeks he has?'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/Rzi6OsTfguI/AAAAAAAAAIo/-KaX770IJK8/s72-c/Xaelen+%26+mama2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-303175793055902692</id><published>2007-11-08T09:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:52:10.274-08:00</updated><title type='text'>18 Month Check Up Issues</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/RzNEzGRZp9I/AAAAAAAAAIg/tk2jiUEBcHw/s1600-h/xaelen+at+the+zoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130520045152741330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/RzNEzGRZp9I/AAAAAAAAAIg/tk2jiUEBcHw/s320/xaelen+at+the+zoo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday Xaelen visited the Dr. to have his wellbaby visit. Usually, everything is peachy keen and we go about our business. This particular visit was less than stellar. First they checked his weight and height. He is now 32.5 inches tall (50th Percentile) and 23 lbs (10th Percentile). Here's the issue, he was 23.5 lbs at his 15 month check up. He actually lost weight. How is it possible that this chubby cheeky monkey is losing weight?!?! I am guessing this might have something to do with the amount of exercise this kid is getting.  Adazm takes him to the disc golf course daily and there is usually no stroller involved.  That would be easily 1-2 miles of walking during their 1.5 hour visit to the course.  Not to mention the visits to the zoo, the swimming time, the running around in circles for no good reason time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing the doctor brought up was a potential heart murmur that she is hearing.  How come they never noticed it before? I was told to call Children's Hospital Cardiology department and schedule an appointment. I called. Left a message. Waiting for a call back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am hopeful that this is just a precaution and everything will be just fine. I hope. I hope. I hope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a lighter note, Xaelen is a talking machine. He repeats everything he hears. He even tried repeating the words from a song on the radio - "Don't bring me down... down down down down down.. " So cute! I'll try and post viedeo of his chatter as soon as I figure out how.&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/7373217931154613726-303175793055902692?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/303175793055902692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=303175793055902692&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/303175793055902692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/303175793055902692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2007/11/18-month-check-up-issues.html' title='18 Month Check Up Issues'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/RzNEzGRZp9I/AAAAAAAAAIg/tk2jiUEBcHw/s72-c/xaelen+at+the+zoo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-8142034630550815666</id><published>2007-11-06T12:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T12:17:12.864-08:00</updated><title type='text'>18 Month - Picture Slideshow</title><content type='html'>Where did all the time go??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fadazmnash%2Falbumid%2F5128784963437149665%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-8142034630550815666?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/8142034630550815666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=8142034630550815666&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/8142034630550815666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/8142034630550815666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2007/11/18-month-picture-slideshow.html' title='18 Month - Picture Slideshow'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373217931154613726.post-815096906081195753</id><published>2007-10-08T13:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T13:15:16.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You've got to start somewhere...</title><content type='html'>So I've been meaning to start a blog as early back as 2003, I even started an account here at blogger.com.  I guess I'm a procrastinator, or just lazy, or some other reason because it never came to fruition.  Today is a new day. Today is the day I made my desire a reality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7373217931154613726-815096906081195753?l=xaelen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/feeds/815096906081195753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7373217931154613726&amp;postID=815096906081195753&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/815096906081195753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7373217931154613726/posts/default/815096906081195753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xaelen.blogspot.com/2007/10/youve-got-to-start-somewhere.html' title='You&apos;ve got to start somewhere...'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04174519739988171419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_OE_gApIGqOw/R2GF-5NWwJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/nt1cQkYHUSc/S220/adam+%26+rita.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
