<?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-8054171626339396831</id><updated>2011-07-08T09:36:41.697-04:00</updated><category term='cooking'/><category term='SAHM'/><category term='exercise'/><category term='movie'/><category term='Sickness'/><category term='children'/><category term='snacks'/><category term='church'/><category term='lay-offs'/><category term='housework'/><category term='swimming'/><category term='vanilla beans'/><category term='Next Food Network Star'/><category term='Julia Child'/><category term='family'/><category term='guilt'/><category term='parenting'/><category term='potty training'/><category term='iced mocha'/><category term='The Next Food Network Star'/><category term='work'/><category term='working mother'/><category term='Ina Garten'/><title type='text'>Happily Ever After</title><subtitle type='html'>This is the story of two people who fell in love, got married, had children...and lived Happily Ever After.

"Marrying for love may be a bit risky, but it is so honest that God can't help but smile on it."  ~Josh Billings</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-6918932049428362015</id><published>2010-02-16T21:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T21:56:48.315-05:00</updated><title type='text'>HALLELUJAH!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Surprisingly, I have not been on here a lot lately. Being snowed in for a few weeks, you'd think I would have been online a lot. But, having two wee little ones running around with cabin fever really hinders ones online time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say that it snowed here would be a severe understatement. This winter, we have received 51 inches of snow. And most of it has not been fun snow. It has been too deep and heavy to play in. The snow is taller than my son. The children want to go outside and play, but when they get out there, they cannot even walk around in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claire has only been to school one day this month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHE HAS SCHOOL TOMORROW!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAY! &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(I am doing a happy dance!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I don't enjoy being around her. It is just that all four of us cooped up together for this long amount of time...Well, we have had enough Family Time for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I don't want her to forget what she has learned. I did do school with her and Nicholas a few times. Practiced writing her name. Going over letters and the sounds they make. Oh, and craft time. Lots of coloring. Actually, Daddy helped with most of the coloring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, she is going back to school tomorrow so we can get back on schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if I hear the word snow again, I am moving somewhere tropical. I am thinking Siberia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-6918932049428362015?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/6918932049428362015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=6918932049428362015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/6918932049428362015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/6918932049428362015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2010/02/hallelujah.html' title='HALLELUJAH!!!'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-3573339542817101926</id><published>2010-02-03T00:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T00:39:52.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No Pants</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Well, today while Claire was at school, I let Nicholas run around without a diaper.  For three hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;The good news?  He sat on the potty 5 times and didn't 'go' anywhere around here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;The not-so-good news?  He didn't go in the potty either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;He waited til I put a diaper back on him then went.  It's a start.  And at least he did not go elsewhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;So, now shall I invest in Pull-Ups for him or continue to let him run around with no pants?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;The tough decisions I face these days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;sigh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-3573339542817101926?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/3573339542817101926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=3573339542817101926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/3573339542817101926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/3573339542817101926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2010/02/no-pants.html' title='No Pants'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-1928374607828201991</id><published>2010-02-01T23:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T23:28:46.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, Nicholas has been using the potty sporadically for a long time now. He goes after breakfast and right before his bath. Sometimes before his nap. He has clearly shown an interest but with me returning to work and J staying home, taking online college classes, as well as applying for jobs, poor &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Pooka's&lt;/span&gt; potty training kind of got pushed to the back burner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So I am starting tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After Claire goes to school and J is at the library, I will start intense training.  If I can get him out of diapers within the next few months, I will be the happiest mommy ever!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Let the battle begin!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-1928374607828201991?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/1928374607828201991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=1928374607828201991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/1928374607828201991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/1928374607828201991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2010/02/potty-time.html' title='Potty Time!'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-8426502929248440262</id><published>2010-01-29T13:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T14:06:39.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;It is almost impossible to type a coherent sentence when there are children in the next room, who are supposed to be napping, acting like cats and dogs. Woof woof and meow meow is all I can really here. And they are LOUD.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Seriously, if someone forced me to go lie down every afternoon, I would embrace it! I miss naps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Okay, okay, I admit it. I took a nap yesterday. For about 5 hours. But, it was drug induced. I was feeling achy, hot, cold, etc. so I took some DayQuil. The one where it says you will feel better but not drowsy. Yeah, right. I was out less than 30 minutes after taking only 1/2 a dose. I fell on to my bed a little after 10:00ish in the morning. Next thing I knew, it was 3:30 in the afternoon and the children were getting up from their naps. J had picked up Claire from school, fixed and fed them lunch, and put them down for their naps. I slept right through all of that. Oblivious to everything. The worst part was waking up to the medicine head afterwards. I felt like I was swimming in jell-o for the rest of the afternoon. Almost not worth the nap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Almost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-8426502929248440262?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/8426502929248440262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=8426502929248440262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/8426502929248440262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/8426502929248440262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2010/01/friday-friday.html' title='Friday Friday'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-7271064605786332009</id><published>2010-01-17T22:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T23:03:43.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year, New Resolve</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Nope, not a resolution. Just going to try harder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was extremely difficult to keep this up while working, taking care of two little one and a hubby. And housekeeping. So the blogging (and a lot of housekeeping) fell by the wayside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My temp position is over. It was only supposed to last through the beginning of August but ended up going through the beginning of January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week, all four of us were home together. All week long. Every day of it. Claire did have school Tuesday-Thursday in the mornings so she had a reprieve from all the family togetherness for a bit. Lucky girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent part of last week trying to get re-acclimated to being home again full time. I have managed to bake two loaves of Honey Wheat Bread. Turned out pretty tasty, if I do say so myself. I am looking forward to getting back into the kitchen and being able to cook more often. Cooking is my stress reliever. And I received some new cookbooks for Christmas. I am excited about trying out some new recipes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am going to start baking. I cook often but have never really gotten into baking. I've started with bread and am going to work my way up from there. Cakes from scratch, brownies from scratch. After I 'master' that, who knows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-7271064605786332009?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/7271064605786332009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=7271064605786332009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/7271064605786332009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/7271064605786332009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year-new-resolve.html' title='New Year, New Resolve'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-4651652927164864188</id><published>2009-08-27T10:06:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T10:34:59.635-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Claire's First Day of School</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Claire started school this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were tears shed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday morning we all get up. (Yes, I had to take the whole day off school.) Claire eats her breakfast with no fussing. That's new. Good though. She puts on her new outfit courtesy of Aunt Jojo. She takes her new lunchbox with her snack in it and off we go. All four of us to take Claire to school. And take pictures of her along the way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374651797426587298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SpaZVWkGxqI/AAAAAAAAAJE/ftg9IHIcJBU/s320/ClaireSchool.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to her classroom and she balks a little at the door. The assistant lures her to the table with play dough. It doesn't get much better than that. Jason took her snack to her cubby at the end of the hall. I told Claire I love her and then told her bye. She just kind of looked at me so Nicholas and I left. We got about halfway down the hallway when Nicholas just started crying and crying. Jason was walking towards so I thought N wanted his daddy. I put him down and he ran right past Jason and headed back to Claire's classroom. Jason grabbed him and we went straight to the parking lot. Nicholas cried halfway home. I didn't shed a tear though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we went back to get Claire at noon, I thought N would be so happy to see her. nope, he wanted to go in her classroom and stay there. I guess we talked school up so much for Claire that he wanted to go as well. Hopefully he still has that same attitude when he is old enough to go to school himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claire is enjoying school and loves her teacher. She talks about Mrs. Hamilton a lot. I am glad. Plus she is making friends but having a hard time remembering their names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little girl has come such a long way. I am so proud.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-4651652927164864188?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/4651652927164864188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=4651652927164864188' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/4651652927164864188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/4651652927164864188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/08/claires-first-day-of-school.html' title='Claire&apos;s First Day of School'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SpaZVWkGxqI/AAAAAAAAAJE/ftg9IHIcJBU/s72-c/ClaireSchool.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-4412660370672555886</id><published>2009-08-18T15:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T15:35:34.087-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iced mocha'/><title type='text'>The Tale of The Iced Mocha</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have really been dragging today and need caffeine to get me going. As you know, I make my own iced mochas at home every morning. Well, today I need an afternoon one. But I don’t want to walk a few blocks to my car and drive somewhere to get one. I start checking around to see where on Main Street can make an iced coffee, preferably a mocha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bartleby’s Café has them on their menu but they are about 4-5 blocks away. That’s a bit in this heat. Someone suggests that I call the Red Truck Bakery. They just opened up where Mom’s Apple Pie was. I call them. They do iced coffees but not mochas. Decision time. Do I want an iced mocha that badly to brave the heat that far or just get an iced coffee that is closer. I decide to try Red Truck. They just opened a few weeks ago and I hadn’t been in there yet. A co-worker asked me to get a cookie while I was there. No problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get outside and am crossing the street into the parking lot for Red Truck. There is a mom and two young boys exiting the shop. I walk up to the door and try to go in. The door doesn’t budge. I look at the sign and it says OPEN. I try the door again. Still doesn’t budge. I read the sign closely. They closed at 3pm. I don’t have a watch on but know it was only 2:47 when I left my office and it takes less than 5 minutes to walk there and back. I figure the office clock was wrong and decide to go to Bartleby’s. Which is an extra two blocks away at this point. I am over halfway there when the court house bell tolls 3 o’clock. Yeah, the bakery closed early! Grrr!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrive at Bartleby’s and order my iced mocha. The guy makes it and puts the lid on it and hands it to me. I grab a straw and head out the door. I open the straw, toss the wrapper in the trash, and try to put the straw in the lid. Only my lid was malformed and didn’t have the opening for the straw. My cup was leaking from the top every time I took a step. So I had to walk down the street with my open straw, my leaky cup, plus my change and my co-workers cash. And she didn’t even get a cookie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-4412660370672555886?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/4412660370672555886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=4412660370672555886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/4412660370672555886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/4412660370672555886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/08/tale-of-iced-mocha.html' title='The Tale of The Iced Mocha'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-7134619492584402461</id><published>2009-08-10T13:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T14:13:12.423-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Julia Child'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'>Julie &amp; Julia review</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I actually got to go see a movie on opening night. Woohoo! I do not go see movies very often at the theater due to a lot of things. 1 – Finding the time to go. 2 – Theater is usually full of people who talk/text or such all through the movie. 3 – Really not that many movies that hubby &amp;amp; I are willing to pay $10.75 per ticket. We usually wait for Netflix.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went with a friend and saw Julie &amp;amp; Julia. It was a good movie. Not wonderfully fantastic and all things great movie. But a good one. Which I will want to buy when it becomes available.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a movie about a blogger, Julie, and Julia Child. The movie didn’t really develop the character of Julie enough for me to really connect to her. She and her hubby had some issues to work out and he left to stay at his office for a bit. I found myself agreeing with him more so than her during that argument.  I had a hard time remembering his name [Eric] and never really got the whole lead up to why decided to blog Julia Child's cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  I feel that there are some deleted scenes that would have helped with the background.  Why Julia Child?  I liked her character well enough, but wasn't really rooting for her.  Plus, I already knew her blog was a hit.  Otherwise there would not have been a movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish they would have shown more of Julia Child. Not necessarily cut from Julie but I really enjoyed Julia. Also, I would have loved to see her get her start on television. I reality, I would love to see a whole movie about Julia Child’s life, but then I am odd that way.  Meryl Streep was perfect as Julia.  I could almost forget that I was watching a movie about her, rather watching her life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing of note, I saw my high school gym teacher at the movie. And not just any gym teacher. This was the one that had the bad temper, broke a desk [accidentally] during driver’s ed, and was the gym teacher all students feared getting. The cliché gym teacher. Anyway, he was there with his wife. It was interesting to see him in that movie of all movies. I could tell he was there when he would have rather been watching G.I. Joe. Made me rethink all the stories I had heard about him through the high school grapevine. No, I didn’t go say hello. I couldn’t remember his name. He probably wouldn’t remember me. I graduated with over 555 other students. I am not athletic. He wouldn’t remember me either.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-7134619492584402461?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/7134619492584402461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=7134619492584402461' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/7134619492584402461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/7134619492584402461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/08/julie-julia-review.html' title='Julie &amp; Julia review'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-2077876889235069769</id><published>2009-08-03T13:20:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T14:37:05.641-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sickness'/><title type='text'>Working Monday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have to say that I was so glad to go to work today. Getting out of bed and out the door was rough, but am so glad to get away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claire is sick. Nicholas is sick. Jason is sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicholas and Jason have summer colds and are all congested. Jason, well, he is a guy and a typical one at that when he is sick. I have already talked to him on the phone a few times today and every other sentence to me is about how awful he is feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What I never say out loud - Wah! Wah! Wah! Try being pregnant!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for the sake of my marriage, I never voice those thoughts aloud.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Maybe I will stay at work late?  Then run errands before going home?  I can't do that to my babies though.  They need me right now since they are not feeling well.  Or at least I like to think that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I am feeling well though.  Would it really matter if I were sick?  Are mommies allowed to get sick?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-2077876889235069769?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/2077876889235069769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=2077876889235069769' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/2077876889235069769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/2077876889235069769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/08/working-monday.html' title='Working Monday'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-3436122094096261191</id><published>2009-07-28T13:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T13:30:08.312-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='potty training'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vanilla beans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Job Extension and Potties</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;HOORAY!!! It appears my temporary employment has been extended. Well, if we can get the paperwork through our HR office.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Next week would have been my last week at my job. After my husband got laid off, I got my old job back as part-time temporary with an approximate end date of August 7th. Which is next week. I found out yesterday that they would like for me to stay on for a while longer with no definite end date. I can do that. For now. Hubby has an interview on Thursday morning (if we can find someone to watch our two kids for real cheap!) for a possible job. I hope something happens for him soon. But it is also a relief to know that my job will last longer. We will be able to continue to pay bills and buy groceries. And diapers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Which reminds me.  I am so wishing I could be done with diapers. My son is almost 19 months old. He will tell me when he is poopie. Or he will go into his bathroom and sit on the little potty and go poo-poo. He even tells me "I poo-poo." So I am wondering if he is about ready to be potty trained. But how to do a boy? Teach him sitting at first then standing? Teach standing for #1 and sitting for #2? What if he has to do #1 and #2 at the same time? It was so much easier with my daughter. I just let her run around without a diaper for a few days and she went in the potty every time. I just do not trust my son at all for that.  The doctor said to wait til my son is closer to 3 years old to start with him on that.  Really???  My daughter was potty trained long before that.  I obviously have no clue what I am doing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But on a good note, I did find out that my local Harris Teeter sells whole vanilla beans on its spice aisle.  And Wegman's website says they sell vanilla beans as well.  Yay!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-3436122094096261191?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/3436122094096261191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=3436122094096261191' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/3436122094096261191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/3436122094096261191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/07/job-extension-and-potties.html' title='Job Extension and Potties'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-6208687429033473544</id><published>2009-07-22T12:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T12:34:05.841-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vanilla beans'/><title type='text'>Vanilla Beans</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I made vanilla ice cream on Monday night. I had most of the ingredients at home but needed heavy cream.  So I ran across the street to Bloom.  Which is usually not my store of choice but it was getting late and just needed the cream.  While I was there, I thought I'd grab a vanilla bean to add to the ice cream instead of the bottled vanilla I had at home.  It would taste better and I liked the idea of the black flecks in the ice cream.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Here is a picture of vanilla beans, in case you don't know what they look like:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361321773061609538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/Smc9v0HnmEI/AAAAAAAAAI0/wanPaXpz08I/s320/vanilla+bean.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I didn't see any vanilla beans when I got there, so I asked an employee if they had them and where they would be.  He thought for a moment then took me to the canned beans aisle.  He thought they would be in with the baked beans, garbanzo beans, etc.  The next employee I asked was honest and told me he had no idea what I was talking about.  I just gave up and went home to use my bottled vanilla.  The ice cream tasted great (I added chunks of homemade dark chocolate fudge) and got great reviews from co-workers.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I don't know.  It still kind of makes me giggle when I remember that poor guy looking for vanilla beans in with the baked beans.  I know that he didn't know better, but still...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-6208687429033473544?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/6208687429033473544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=6208687429033473544' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/6208687429033473544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/6208687429033473544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/07/vanilla-beans.html' title='Vanilla Beans'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/Smc9v0HnmEI/AAAAAAAAAI0/wanPaXpz08I/s72-c/vanilla+bean.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-6013409061834520955</id><published>2009-07-13T13:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T13:46:54.574-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Next Food Network Star'/><title type='text'>The Next Food Network Star Ep 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Well, Debbie stayed.  Michael went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see the judges point of view what with Michael repeatedly saying he hates the camera.  But Debbie's lack of integrity!  Puh-lease!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few things:&lt;br /&gt;·         Debbie's food tasted the best, per the judges.  Duh!  She only worked on hers instead of helping everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;·         Michael was told by the judges that his salmon had no flavor.  Maybe Debbie took it out of the marinade too early so that she could focus on her own food?&lt;br /&gt;·         Go Melissa for calling out Debbie in front of the judges!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I was never a conspiracy theorist before but I feel I am turning into one now.  I really hope that Debbie gets sent home next.  I used to think she was the judges favorite and had been picked as the winner since the first episode.  Now I don't think she will win.  I don't think they would have showed Debbie to be such a liar if they wanted her to have a fan base.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in this month's Food Network magazine, Debbie's hot dog stand is mentioned but I also noticed what looked like other NFNS recipes.  A watermelon-feta salad.  (Eddie?) A jicama slaw (Jamika?) was in there as well.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-6013409061834520955?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/6013409061834520955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=6013409061834520955' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/6013409061834520955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/6013409061834520955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/07/next-food-network-star-ep-6.html' title='The Next Food Network Star Ep 6'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-7284046009338985725</id><published>2009-07-08T10:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T10:34:09.752-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Next Food Network Star'/><title type='text'>The Next Food Network Star Ep 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, first of all I want to say BRAVO to the production staff at TNFNS for all the hours they must spend editing this show. I went to Rachael Ray’s website to watch the full-length clips.  Such a difference from what I saw on Sunday night.  I didn’t get to dvr RR’s show last Thursday as there was no advertising that TNFNS would be on her show.  Kudos to the PR team as well!&lt;br /&gt;So to recap the show – shall I do it just from TNFNS point of view or add in what I saw on RR?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I won’t even do a full recap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judges selection committee kept remarking that this week was their mid-term so you really got the feeling that they were not judging on this week’s challenge alone.  This made me think Katie was going home.  Then as the show went on, I had a feeling that Jamika would be leaving.  She didn’t do well last week and seemed to be sinking this week.  I really like her and was hating how she seemed to freeze on RR.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But go to Rachael’s tv site and watch all the clips and decide for yourself. &lt;a href="http://www.rachaelrayshow.com/"&gt;http://www.rachaelrayshow.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I don’t think anyone was awful enough to go home this week.  I was sort of hoping that this week would be a free week and all would get to go to Miami.  But I believe the judges selection committee had their minds made up before the challenges even began.  They were done with Katie and it was her time to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just one last thought, because I have to…&lt;br /&gt;I cook with A LOT of garlic and soy sauce.  Does that mean I am Korean???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-7284046009338985725?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/7284046009338985725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=7284046009338985725' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/7284046009338985725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/7284046009338985725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/07/next-food-network-star-ep-5.html' title='The Next Food Network Star Ep 5'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-1074668345540649186</id><published>2009-07-07T12:15:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T12:49:55.574-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrating America - Small Town Style</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;At first, I was thinking why bother to post as nothing has really happened in a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were super busy this past weekend. Friday night we went to the 'First Friday' event in Old Town Warrenton. The first Friday of every month from May through September, Old Town Warrenton keeps the shops open late, farmer's market, and activities for children. We went this past Friday and it was the Warrenton Fire Department's 85th birthday. Claire was excited to have birthday cake. It's her favorite thing in ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Flying Circus was there with a mini plane that children could climb in and pretend to fly. Nicholas was not too keen on that part. He kept trying to climb on the wing. Claire loved piloting the plane. Maybe she will be the pilot and N can be the wing walker. I hope not though! I always get nervous watching that part of the airshow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355755141494165250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SlN27Ni7TwI/AAAAAAAAAIU/raISEWlJTU0/s320/NPlane.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There was also a Bouncy House which was also a huge hit for Claire. She played in that for a long time. Nicholas enjoyed it until he got stuck at the top. The best part about Old Town being full of firefighters and junior firefighters? They were all eager to send up a rescue mission for Nicholas. Three of the junior firefighters went up after him and brought him down to safety. I was just glad that I didn't have to climb up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355755279244098418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SlN3DOtEe3I/AAAAAAAAAIc/mVwcXg3yWcs/s320/CBouncy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then both Claire and Nicholas received their 'party hats' which were plastic fire hats. So I had them stand next to the fire hydrant. Nicholas wouldn't keep his hat on his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355755452996893010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SlN3NV-9uVI/AAAAAAAAAIk/qIKhM2-WnE0/s320/Firemen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evenings out like this make me happy I am raising my family in a small town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was the Fourth of July!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up early for the parade in Old Town. It was a children and pets parade. We got there early and ended up sitting with some good friends. The parade was supposed to start at 10 am with Uncle Sam leading the children and pets down Main Street. Well, a little after 10:00 a police car crawled down Main Street with its lights flashing. A couple hundred children and pets followed. Then there was Uncle Sam running down the street. He was late and missed the beginning. The kids and pets were cute all dressed in red, white, and blue. The ones on bikes and in wagons had everything decorated. Then it was over. No fire trucks, no marching bands, nothing. As we were leaving, Claire, who is three, was very mad that she didn't get to see the parade. She just didn't get that THAT was the parade. She whined about it most of the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening we headed over to our Sunday School teacher's house for a cook-out and fireworks. It was very low key and wonderful. Claire and Nicholas got to run around the huge yard playing with their friends right up until the fireworks. Not too many fireworks, but just the right amount for little ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355759832863522562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SlN7MSQivwI/AAAAAAAAAIs/RWgXAJgjDAM/s320/Fireworks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-1074668345540649186?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/1074668345540649186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=1074668345540649186' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/1074668345540649186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/1074668345540649186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/07/celebrating-america-small-town-style.html' title='Celebrating America - Small Town Style'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SlN27Ni7TwI/AAAAAAAAAIU/raISEWlJTU0/s72-c/NPlane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-1001764861737401849</id><published>2009-06-30T12:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T12:53:06.714-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Next Food Network Star'/><title type='text'>The Next Food Network Star Ep 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This episode was the best this season thus far. I was surprised and a bit saddened to see Tedd go this week. I think it had a lot to do with last week's drama. His food was better [cooked] than Katie's on the burger challenge. True, he froze during his presentation on the Intrepid but I felt so bad for him. While he was fumbling for the right words and looking at his palm, I was cheering for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jamika. Wow. Definitely not a hit on the Intrepid. I guess she cannot be stellar every week. It was sad to see how awful her food was received. Saving grace this week had to have been her presentation on the Intrepid. I am still rooting for her overall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was lukewarm about Jeffrey this week. I felt bad that he received the oddest combo of ingredients for the main challenge. Blueberries and lobster? Plus, he had a great disadvantage having to deal with the lobsters, cook them in all less than an hour and a half. Had he been happier with his dish, I believe his presentation would have been more enthusiastic. You could tell even he was having a hard time trying to find a way to present his dish in a positive light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael - I still like him a lot but think he could do a whole show in s Martha Stewart style. Maybe in front of a live audience? I was so glad he won the 1st challenge. He truly deserved that win. He will be one of the final three contestants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Debbie - HAHAHAHAHA! I admit that I had to rewind the part where she got hit in the face and watch it a couple of times before moving on. First of all, anyone with any kitchen experience knows that you never walk up behind a cook who is taking something out of the oven without announcing your presence. We always did that at my house growing up. Secondly, she blamed the blandness of her chicken on her injury but her chicken was almost done before she got hit. She milked it for what it was worth and then some. Finally, I am sick of hearing her talk about her southern/Asian heritage. Same story every week. blah blah blah blah blah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie is still pretty unforgettable to me. Only now when I think of her, I just think of raw meat. The lamb a few weeks ago and now the turkey burger. I honestly think she should have been sent packing instead of Teddy this week. And, to be honest, her tears do nothing but aggravate me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MELISSA! She was so awesome this week. Not only did she win the main challenge, but I believe that she has now earned the respect of the other finalists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who I think should be in the Top Three:&lt;br /&gt;Melissa&lt;br /&gt;Michael&lt;br /&gt;Jamika&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who will probably be in the Top Three:&lt;br /&gt;Debbie&lt;br /&gt;Melissa&lt;br /&gt;Jamika&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...the judges, ooops I mean Selection Committee, love Debbie more than she deserves. Either it is the editing - which I highly doubt - or she had dirt on each one of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-1001764861737401849?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/1001764861737401849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=1001764861737401849' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/1001764861737401849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/1001764861737401849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/next-food-network-star-ep-4.html' title='The Next Food Network Star Ep 4'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-7148422359016751039</id><published>2009-06-27T12:57:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T13:15:21.561-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='swimming'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snacks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><title type='text'>Fun Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today is our Family Day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where we all hang out and have fun together as a family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, we have had breakfast, played, had a snack, went to the pool, and now naptime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, the snack.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is from a cookbook called 'fun food for Healthy Kids' that I recently acquired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/4 cup smooth or crunchy almond butter (I actually used peanut butter)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 T milk chocolate chips&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1-2 T milk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 (8-inch) whole wheat tortilla&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 large banana, peeled&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Do:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Combine almond butterm chips, and 1 T milk in medium microwavable bowl. Microwave on MED for 40 seconds. Stir well and repeat if necessary to melt chocolate. Add more milk if necessary for desired consistency. (I didn't use a microwave, I used a double boiler.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spread mixture on tortilla. Place banana on one side of tortilla and roll up tightly. With a sharp knife, slice into 2 one-inch slices.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is what it should look like:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352055610767504226" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SkZSOLnu82I/AAAAAAAAAH8/QmH7jyHRMuQ/s320/001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is what it looks like after an 18-month old boy has it:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352056111639904322" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SkZSrVhBQEI/AAAAAAAAAIE/mGhcBoCyi5o/s320/005.JPG" /&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352056372648666226" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SkZS6h2W5HI/AAAAAAAAAIM/xGICUZyeNdo/s320/007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pure joy on his face!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since the children were on a slight sugar high, we took them swimming. N won't go in the pool. We tried everything and he just screams. I am going to have to take him to a small wading pool to get him used to the water. Last year he loved it! He cried everytime we took him out of the water. Complete opposite this year. Claire loves being in the water as long as she doesn't have to let go of me or J. Death grips on our neck. And both kids had float devices on them. It was only our second pool attempt this summer. I intend to keep taking them back so they get used to it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And sign them up for swim lessons soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-7148422359016751039?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/7148422359016751039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=7148422359016751039' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/7148422359016751039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/7148422359016751039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/fun-days.html' title='Fun Days'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SkZSOLnu82I/AAAAAAAAAH8/QmH7jyHRMuQ/s72-c/001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-3150069910592705525</id><published>2009-06-25T14:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T14:46:18.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today is my husband’s birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351337883756252770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SkPFc-JhzmI/AAAAAAAAAHk/kwxCPh3QHQs/s200/J%26N.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I really need to go to the store and at least get him a card. I feel awful that I haven’t gotten him anything yet. Added to that, I have to work late tonight and probably won’t be home until after the children are in bed. Maybe I will stop and get him a cake as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did meet up with him and the children for lunch today though. And ran into a good friend with her children. Her children are the same age as ours and they all play so well together. It’s a great match all around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a great thing that birthdays are not major events for him, else he would be sorely disappointed this year. I hate having to work late tonight but need to do well at this job. Tonight is Planning Commission Meeting night at the County. The meeting starts at 6:30 p.m. and should be getting out kind of early. The agenda is rather small. I may be home by 7:30 p.m. if things go well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is taking it in stride that I won’t be home for dinner. I have to admit, if situations were reversed, I would be peeved if he were working late on my birthday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you tell I am a little upset about working late?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note, my sister and her husband gave J a new game for the xbox. It’s the game all my husband’s friends are playing online. I will be a video game widow for a while until he beats the game. Which isn’t always a bad thing. Gives me time to read and catch up on other stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But let’s take a little time to expound on J’s virtues.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SkPFYmcpf0I/AAAAAAAAAHc/KHe7BPf2H4o/s1600-h/J%26C.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351337808674520898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SkPFYmcpf0I/AAAAAAAAAHc/KHe7BPf2H4o/s200/J%26C.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He is very loving.&lt;br /&gt;He is patient with me.&lt;br /&gt;He has an amazing sense of humor!&lt;br /&gt;He is kind and thoughtful.&lt;br /&gt;He is a wonderful Dad.&lt;br /&gt;He is the best hubby ever!&lt;br /&gt;He buys great gifts.&lt;br /&gt;He is HOT!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Those are not all his virtues but my break at work is over so I must go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Til next time…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-3150069910592705525?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/3150069910592705525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=3150069910592705525' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/3150069910592705525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/3150069910592705525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/today-is-my-husbands-birthday.html' title=''/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SkPFc-JhzmI/AAAAAAAAAHk/kwxCPh3QHQs/s72-c/J%26N.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-8984608985458256293</id><published>2009-06-24T13:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T13:24:26.273-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Working days...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, I got to remember yesterday what it is like to work in an office full of women. At my temporary job I work on a floor with nine other women and one male. The male is the head of the department (part of which is where I am and the other part in another building) but he stays in his office or next door most of the time. He is a great guy and I do enjoy working with/for him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Anyway, when you have that many women together, there will be cattiness. And I learned that if you are nice to the one person the majority of the other ladies don’t like – you get blackballed for a while. It gets cliquey. I am just there part-time. Temporarily. I just want to show up, do my work and collect my paycheck. I am not there to make close friends not to make enemies. I treat everyone fairly and won’t gossip about any of them. So when I treated the office pariah nicely – woo hee – you woulda thought that I did something illegal. Ice cold shoulders for me for the rest of the afternoon from a few of the others. Whatever! I am there to work so can we all just grow up and be adults – not act like we are all still in junior high? Today, all is well with the world and they all want to be buddy/buddy with me. Fine, whatever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After work, I ran to Manassas to get my hair done. I went for a short angled bob with highlights. I watch my hairdresser’s boys on Fridays and she cuts and colors my hair for free.&lt;br /&gt;Then I raced to my parents’ house to collect my children. They had been out of town for the weekend and I hadn’t seen them since Friday afternoon. I was so glad to finally hold them in my arms again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We headed home and I threw them in the bath. Afterwards we read books and snuggled before bed. Since we hadn’t seen each other in such a long while, they got to go to bed a little later than usual. When they were finally settled into bed, I threw on a load of whites. J walked in the door right after that and as neither of us had eaten dinner yet, I fixed us a quick snack. Then I ironed my clothes for work today, fixed my lunch for today, and then started on a snack for Claire’s Wednesday night class. I had wanted to try these for a while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;First, pour a bag of white chocolate chips into a heavy duty Ziplock bag. Microwave for 30 seconds. Squeeze the bag. Repeat until the white chocolate is melted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Line a baking sheet with wax paper. Place small pretzel rings (I couldn’t find rings, so I used mini-pretzels.) on the wax paper about 2 inches apart. Snip off a small corner of the Ziploc bag and pipe the white chocolate around the pretzel starting on the outside and finishing at the center so that it makes kind of a white round blob. Top it with a yellow M&amp;amp;M and voila!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350945859368600306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SkJg6JgDQvI/AAAAAAAAAHU/EaOlVl6JsL8/s200/Egg.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It’s a fried egg!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-8984608985458256293?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/8984608985458256293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=8984608985458256293' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/8984608985458256293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/8984608985458256293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/working-days.html' title='Working days...'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SkJg6JgDQvI/AAAAAAAAAHU/EaOlVl6JsL8/s72-c/Egg.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-4257524620626974017</id><published>2009-06-21T23:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T23:23:01.781-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Next Food Network Star'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ina Garten'/><title type='text'>TNFNS Episode 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I just finished watching Episode 3 of The Next Food Network Star. WOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, if is was one of the selection committee, I would have really sent both Teddy and Eddie home. Debbie is not, never has been, and probably won't ever be one of my favorites to win - but the treatment she received from Teddy was horrific! And the attitude Melissa received from Eddie was unacceptable. She finished in the top three the first few episodes and he is always in the bottom three. Why does he think he is a better cook than her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jamika and Jeffery are really pulling ahead as my two favorites. Teddy is who I am hoping goes home next. I still don't trust Debbie either. Melissa I like but would probably never really watch a show with her as the star. Micheal seems to have great food but I still see him doing more of a Martha Stewart style show than one just centered on cooking. Katie - not memorable at all. Even her nutrition facts are forgettable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glad Eddie did go home. First of all - using one of Paula Deen's recipe on this show? Not only did he make a loser salad, but was taking Paula down with him!!! Not exactly the brightest bulb on stage. And to think I kind of like him on the first episode. Or maybe I just thought he was adorable and I am now looking past his features. Then, the eye-rolling. So glad Bobby Flay watched the video of the teams cooking together. Eddie's whole attitude towards Melissa really bothered me. I feel somewhat protective of her. I will be sad when she does go home but don't think she has what it takes to win overall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For overall winner, I am still pulling for Jamika but am not entirely 'in love' with any of the finalists at this point. No one has really grabbed me and made me want to root for them. I just feel like I am rooting against the 'villains' at this point in the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never really watched one of Ina's shows but do have one of her cookbooks. I am definitely going to make a point of watching her now that I have seen her on this show. I don't even know what her culinary point of view is. I am looking forward to finding out though. She looks like she would be an interesting character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward to what next week will bring...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-4257524620626974017?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/4257524620626974017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=4257524620626974017' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/4257524620626974017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/4257524620626974017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/tnfns-episode-3.html' title='TNFNS Episode 3'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-1371908991371020390</id><published>2009-06-17T22:45:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T23:16:02.522-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='working mother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Guilt From a 3-Year Old</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Claire has Masters Club God's Little Treasures class on Wednesday nights at our church. Every two weeks she has a new verse to say. She has been doing real well on her verses. Last week, she refused to say her verse. I didn't really think much of it as I had just started back to work and didn't work on the verse with her that Tuesday and Wednesday. And I didn't let J know to work on it with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, J kept repeating the verse to her over and over. She would not say it to him at all. I got a pack of stickers and told her that if she told Miss Amy or Miss Amber the verse, then I would giver her a sticker. Yeah, I know, bribing her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did not harp on the verse all week, just worked with her on it at certain times during her 'school time' during the day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to church, I went over the verse with her again. I knew that she knew it as she had told it to me on Monday. J was home with a sick, little Nicholas tonight. She told me she would only say it to Miss Amy. I said that was fine. We started talking about other things. She told me she had fun with Daddy. They built a tent today and played in that. And he read her books. We were getting closer to church so I said her verse again and asked her why she wouldn't say it to Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked at me and said, "You're at work, Mommy."&lt;br /&gt;I said, "Yes, but Daddy is a good Daddy and you can tell him your verse."&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Daddy is a good Daddy. But you're not there."&lt;br /&gt;I told her that Mommy has to work for a while but Daddy loves her and wants to hear her verse too.&lt;br /&gt;She said, "You're at work. He's Daddy and you're Mommy. I 'posed to say it to you."&lt;br /&gt;I once again told her she could say it to Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;She told me she would say it to Miss Amy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pulled into the parking lot and she told me she would say her verse to Miss Amy but not to me. I asked why not me anymore. She told me she's mad! Why is she mad? Mommy's at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broke my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I need to continue working. We need the income until something comes open for Jason. And he has had a few calls already. And getting out of the house is great. I get to be Stacey and not J's wife or Claire's Mommy or Nicholas' Mommy. I get to have my own identity. But I hate being away from my children all day. And now I know that they really notice and miss me. Part of me is glad they miss me but I didn't realize to what extent until tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only one more day this week, then I will be with them all day on Friday. Looking forward to it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-1371908991371020390?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/1371908991371020390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=1371908991371020390' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/1371908991371020390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/1371908991371020390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/guilt-from-3-year-old.html' title='Guilt From a 3-Year Old'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-949555386716252631</id><published>2009-06-16T21:29:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T21:44:10.691-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='housework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Busy day today</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, I am sitting here exhausted but I can't sleep. Maybe I am too tired to sleep. There really is nothing on television and I don't have the energy to search my dvr'd list&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at work. And I am back into the working mommy syndrome. I enjoy the socialization of working and talking to other adults. And having 'girl talk' as J calls it. But I hate being away from my children that long. I wonder most of the day what they are doing, if they miss me, or if they realize I am not there. Or if they are having more fun with Daddy than they did with me. Sad, I know. Almost pathetic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still don't know quite what to do with myself for a whole hour for lunch. Today I walked to the library, checked out a book, and sat outside on a bench and read. It was just about perfect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight J has class so I have the Claire &amp;amp; Nicholas by myself. We played so hard. I kept the tv off so that I could spend more time with them. We jumped on my bed, had a tea party, played baby goes night-night where I was the baby, read 5 books, they had a bath and are now in bed. Then I scrubbed my bathroom, did three loads of laundry, fixed my lunch for tomorrow, cleaned the living room, and made brownies. It is no wonder I am so tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off I go now, gotta get ready for tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-949555386716252631?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/949555386716252631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=949555386716252631' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/949555386716252631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/949555386716252631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/busy-day-today.html' title='Busy day today'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-1504543728089768308</id><published>2009-06-15T22:23:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T19:05:39.466-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Next Food Network Star'/><title type='text'>The Next Food Network Star</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I really do not watch a lot of television. There are just a handful of shows that I try to make it a point to watch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of which is ‘The Next Food Network Star’ on Sunday evenings at 9:00 pm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has only been on for two episodes this season, but I already know who should win and who should have really gone home the first week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jamika should go ahead and be declared the winner! I love her attitude, she looks good on camera, she handles herself well, and she is a team player.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Debbie should have gone home the first week after her leadership fiasco! Maybe Jen’s green beans were not the best and Eddie’s BLAST Bowl was a disappointment, but seriously? Unless they are leaving major footage on the edit room floor, Debbie really screwed up. She may have a good personality and make a tasty spicy mayo, but to lie by omission? Really judges? And to the editing and production team – first impressions are lasting impressions – so it will take a lot for me to change my opinion of her. IF it was truly editing which painted her like that, and I seriously doubt it, not a good call for someone the judges obviously thing is great.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I don’t know if the judges get to see any of the footage prior to making their decision, but they really should. Debbie threw her whole team under the bus on that one and is still somehow a darling of the judges. She needs to go home and go home now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to Jamika. I am hoping that she doesn’t stay the same but continues to improve on her already strong foundation. She won the second challenge of the day and gets her own spread in Good Housekeeping. I need to go out and get a copy of that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Plus, she is a southern gal and what more do you need?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so hooked on this show now. J makes fun of me for how involved I get.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-1504543728089768308?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/1504543728089768308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=1504543728089768308' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/1504543728089768308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/1504543728089768308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-really-do-not-watch-lot-of-television.html' title='The Next Food Network Star'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-2164387117642329361</id><published>2009-06-11T21:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T22:05:39.210-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lay-offs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SAHM'/><title type='text'>Not The Kind of CHANGE We Were Expecting</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well, my year and a month of a SAHM has come to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband got laid off a week ago today. When he got home sometime between 2 and 3 that afternoon, I knew something was up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After some major crying on Thursday evening and Friday morning, I decided to see what I could do to help out. I contacted my most recent place of employment just to see if they knew of anything. I was not really expecting much as they are under a hiring freeze. By Friday afternoon, I had a part-time (30 hours a week) job that I began this past Tuesday morning. Most of the work is part of what I used to do there. I know most of the people with whom I will be working, and I really do like all of my co-workers! It is the perfect arrangement. I am off every Friday so that I can still keep my daycare boys. And my husband is at home, &lt;strong&gt;for now&lt;/strong&gt;, to watch our two little ones during the day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There are definite pros and cons to being back at work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;PROS&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I get a whole 60 minutes for my lunch break. I have no idea what to do with that much time to myself!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I get to eat lunch without any pudgy little paws stealing my food.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No fighting and screaming matches to referee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Wearing dress clothes and makeup everyday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Talking to other adults.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Chatting with females.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;INCOME!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;CONS&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The whole summer I had planned (swimming, library visits, VBS, etc.) will be enjoyed by my hubby instead of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No hugs and kisses and I love you mommy from the kids all day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Missing my children.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I am just thankful for a job and one that came along that quickly. Just when I needed it the most. And all of this is temporary. Hubby is looking for a job. He has applied to so many places and is continuing to do so. But he is enjoying the time with the children. And it is good for all three of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;More later on all of that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-2164387117642329361?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/2164387117642329361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=2164387117642329361' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/2164387117642329361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/2164387117642329361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/not-kind-of-change-we-were-expecting.html' title='Not The Kind of CHANGE We Were Expecting'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-4453997836351046716</id><published>2009-06-03T22:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T22:57:28.911-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cranky Days</title><content type='html'>Today was a cranky day for all in our household. Last night, Nicholas had a hard time sleeping and ended up in our bed around midnight. Not too long after that, Claire was awakened but the storms and joined us. Our bed definitely not big enough for four people. One of whom likes to sleep horizontally instead of vertically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hardly any sleep last night made four very cranky people today. Jason got to escape to his work while I stayed home with the kids. We really couldn't go anywhere as Claire was complaining of a headache due to the previous day's injury and she was covered in mosquito bites. When she gets bit, she really swells up. Here is a picture of her from last summer with a single mosquito bite near her eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343299402316723698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/Sic2fxOlNfI/AAAAAAAAAFs/0gETf0UYAoc/s200/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I kept her inside most of today until time for church.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We were all going a bit stir crazy today being cooped up inside.  Then I decided instead of being a parent, I would try to see things from their point of view.  I got down on the floor and played like a toddler.  It was a lot of fun!  I wore a laundry basket on my head, colored, had a tickle fight with Claire and Nicholas.  We wore ourselves out.  They got to nap while I got to clean.  I think they rather enjoyed our playing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then it was time for church.  Again tonight, they were rather pleasant for me during the bathing and dressing process.  I could get used to that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;All in all, nothing exciting happened and hardly worth blogging about.  But I am trying to get in the habit of blogging.  When I get used to it, hopefully things get more interesting.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-4453997836351046716?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/4453997836351046716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=4453997836351046716' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/4453997836351046716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/4453997836351046716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/cranky-days.html' title='Cranky Days'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/Sic2fxOlNfI/AAAAAAAAAFs/0gETf0UYAoc/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-8839662335538772570</id><published>2009-06-02T22:16:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T22:52:42.604-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exercise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday was one of those rare days that was just about perfect! As soon as breakfast was over, the kids and I got dressed and went to the store then headed to the playground. There was a preschool arriving at the playground at the same time as us. They were 2-3 year olds which worked out well as it gave my kids other children for playmates. Then we headed back home. The best part was that we walked everywhere we went!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch, I put them down for naps. Nicholas went right to sleep. Claire only slept for about 45 minutes. When she got up, I took her out on the deck with her compluter and we went over her letters and numbers for about an hour. She not only knows all of her letters but what sounds each letter makes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening, when J got home, he took the kids back to the playground while I went to the onsite fitness facility. I only got a 20 minute workout done but it was a good start. I am hoping to get in a workout tomorrow morning before he heads to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we spent the day at my parent's house. I cannot remember the last time Claire played so hard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiXfTD-o1eI/AAAAAAAAAFc/hzZpY-eWq6M/s1600-h/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342922051523499490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiXfTD-o1eI/AAAAAAAAAFc/hzZpY-eWq6M/s200/020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here she is pushing two of her cousins, Abril on the right and Adriana on the left, on the swings. I think she had almost as much fun doing that as she did swinging.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And she loves playing with her cousins. She is always asking if they can come over. She also thinks every time they come over, we should have a party. With cake. And party hats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiXh0TKMxKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Ybyo8XkmKc8/s1600-h/032.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiXh0TKMxKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Ybyo8XkmKc8/s1600-h/032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342924821557462178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiXh0TKMxKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Ybyo8XkmKc8/s200/032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicholas only got a short nap, about 30 minutes, until he realized that everyone else was outside eating popsicles. So he had to join us.   And have a popsicle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My younger sister found these kid-sized popsicles at Bloom and they are perfect!  Of course he still made a mess but that's what little boys do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think his favorite part of the day was when we kept trying to sneak drink from the bubbles.  Or when he found a spider crawling towards him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now time for me to go to bed.  I am planning on getting up early tomorrow morning for another workout.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-8839662335538772570?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/8839662335538772570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=8839662335538772570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/8839662335538772570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/8839662335538772570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/yesterday-was-one-of-those-rare-days.html' title=''/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiXfTD-o1eI/AAAAAAAAAFc/hzZpY-eWq6M/s72-c/020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-7779115750519476914</id><published>2009-06-01T08:33:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T08:55:40.591-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Honestly, it was a great weekend! For the most part.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday night I go to go out to dinner with six other ladies. We are all friends from church and we just sat around talking for &lt;em&gt;hours&lt;/em&gt; with no interruptions. It was wonderful. We went to Faang Thai Restaurant &amp;amp; Bar in Warrenton. The service was very speedy, our waiter didn't mind if we sat there chatting, and everything was delicious. Afterwards, we walked to Border's for coffee and ended up talking there until well after 10:00 pm. We actually lost track of time until the coffee shop started turning off their lights while we were still there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiPL7IICyZI/AAAAAAAAAEc/kkiUxqeOB74/s1600-h/038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342337799645481362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiPL7IICyZI/AAAAAAAAAEc/kkiUxqeOB74/s320/038.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Saturday my older sister and I went with my two little ones up to Maryland to visit my Grandmother. She is 90 years old now and I just love her. I try to call and visit her as much as possible.This is the two of us in her bedroom. She loves to have company over and cook for them. I am a lot like her and consider that a great honor.  She is my only living grandparent that I have left and I am cherishing the time that I have to spend with her and learn from her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiPMylhWsTI/AAAAAAAAAEs/sukH1qij2Jc/s1600-h/053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342338752429076786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiPMylhWsTI/AAAAAAAAAEs/sukH1qij2Jc/s320/053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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;My children love her as well and know that their Great-Grandmother will spoil them!  Which is fine by me.  That is the job of the grandparents and the great-grandparents.  N even learned that he just had to run over to her and make his lower lip wobble and she would pick him up and give him love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They also enjoy riding in her new walker.  I love this picture with C holding onto N so that he doesn't fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And she enjoys having them around her too.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiPMmLApmgI/AAAAAAAAAEk/ImjYySSzNGQ/s1600-h/053.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Plus, showing them off to her friends up there is a treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday was Sunday.  Which means church day.  We all got up, had breakfast, bathed, got dressed an out the door.  On time!  With hardly any fussing at all!  Which is a minor miracle in and of itself. Then on the way to church, C started crying and saying she had a boo-boo and needed to go to her doctor instead of church.  When we got to church she had a red splotch on her back the size of a dessert plate with little white spots on it.  I asked a lady in our church with a medical professional background what she thought it was.  She told me it looked like an allergic reaction to something.  We checked C's back about 10 minutes later and the red mark had moved.  Not spread, just moved.  On the way home, C kept scratching at herself and asking for her doctor.  She took Benadryl and went right to bed almost as soon as we walked in the door.  Jason said he would stay home her last night so that I could go back to church.  He also said that if she was still sick the next day, I'd be the one taking care of her so it gave me a small break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which was nice.  We had a new member fellowship after church and I got to go all by myself and just talk to other adults without having to constantly watch my little ones.  I love them dearly but it was nice being me for a while and not someone's Mommy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Looking forward to today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/8054171626339396831-7779115750519476914?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/7779115750519476914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=7779115750519476914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/7779115750519476914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/7779115750519476914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/06/honestly-it-was-great-weekend-for-most.html' title=''/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiPL7IICyZI/AAAAAAAAAEc/kkiUxqeOB74/s72-c/038.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8054171626339396831.post-2127927509641211516</id><published>2009-05-29T12:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T13:28:56.583-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Retrospective</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;Friday, May 30th, 2008 was my last day in the work force. After that, I became a Stay At Home Mom. I was very excited about it and had so many great ideas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Dinner on the table every night when hubby walked in the door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;House spotless clean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Laundry always caught up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Field trips with the children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;I could read or nap while my children napped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;Yeah, I have no idea what I was thinking. Maybe I watched too much Donna Reed Show on Nick At Nite?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;I have a little girl who just turned three at the beginning of May.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;And my son is almost 17 months old. He is into EVERYTHING!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;They keep me busy and I love them so much. I am really enjoying the time that I have with them. Teaching them new things and snuggling on the couch are things that I will never forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;Some days are harder than others, though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;One day they were playing quietly in their room while I fixed lunch. A little &lt;em&gt;too&lt;/em&gt; quietly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341294053710303330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiAWpHhPEGI/AAAAAAAAADw/HN-TGVGlfAk/s320/014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;They had completely cleaned out their toy box and shelves!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341293856112757554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiAWdnaTyzI/AAAAAAAAADo/xu_FbN7PZLU/s320/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Instead of just cleaning up, I decided to clean out! I purged a lot of old toys and got rid of some trash as well. I felt like I had actually accomplished something that day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8054171626339396831-2127927509641211516?l=ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/feeds/2127927509641211516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8054171626339396831&amp;postID=2127927509641211516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/2127927509641211516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8054171626339396831/posts/default/2127927509641211516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourhappilyeverafterpell.blogspot.com/2009/05/retrospective.html' title='Retrospective'/><author><name>Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05161445598636675613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SjhQLV9FKhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zcTTX2YYLPM/S220/043.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_B2MjhpxKhWU/SiAWpHhPEGI/AAAAAAAAADw/HN-TGVGlfAk/s72-c/014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
