<?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-6288692919241397043</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:31:35.516-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm just me...</title><subtitle type='html'>Stories from my life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>259</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1057352494635087792</id><published>2011-08-05T13:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T13:16:33.298-04:00</updated><title type='text'>10 YEARS!!!</title><content type='html'>Hubbs and I have been married for 10 years now!!&amp;nbsp; It's hard to believe it's been that long, seems like our wedding was only yesterday.&amp;nbsp; Don't get me wrong, a few of those years were rough, but we made it through and we love each other even more now.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs sent me a dozen roses yesterday then last night we went out to dinner to celebrate.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of lately I&amp;nbsp;don't have many&amp;nbsp;clothes that fit.&amp;nbsp; I did break down and buy a few tops a while back and then a couple of weeks ago I bought 2 pair of shorts.&amp;nbsp; I hate to buy maternity clothes, especially when it's almost the end of summer.&amp;nbsp; Why waste my money on summer clothes then have to buy a few things for the fall.&amp;nbsp; All of&amp;nbsp;the clothes I did buy are casual shorts and tees.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So last night when I wanted to look nice and couldn't fit into anything in my closet I wasn't thrilled.&amp;nbsp; I complained to Hubbs that nothing&amp;nbsp;fits.&amp;nbsp; His response?&amp;nbsp; "That will&amp;nbsp;teach you to have unprotected sex, won't it?"&amp;nbsp; Hmmm, thanks Hubbs, what a&amp;nbsp;funny guy!&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1057352494635087792?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1057352494635087792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1057352494635087792' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1057352494635087792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1057352494635087792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/08/10-years.html' title='10 YEARS!!!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-6939897714730462954</id><published>2011-07-17T14:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T14:19:22.083-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's birthday time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8ublB6VD9zs/TiCB_0rOvsI/AAAAAAAAApI/c1e2m39-D5Q/s1600/DSCN1748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8ublB6VD9zs/TiCB_0rOvsI/AAAAAAAAApI/c1e2m39-D5Q/s320/DSCN1748.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my baby turns 6!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-6939897714730462954?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/6939897714730462954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=6939897714730462954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6939897714730462954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6939897714730462954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/07/its-birthday-time.html' title='It&apos;s birthday time!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8ublB6VD9zs/TiCB_0rOvsI/AAAAAAAAApI/c1e2m39-D5Q/s72-c/DSCN1748.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8378037631831045217</id><published>2011-07-14T10:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T10:12:29.100-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost in the mail</title><content type='html'>I have heard rumors that my nephew's 7th birthday party is this Saturday.&amp;nbsp; Two days away.&amp;nbsp; (This would be the son of my brother and my crazy SIL.)&amp;nbsp; We have yet to receive an invitation or a phone call to invite us.&amp;nbsp; My parents haven't received theirs either.&amp;nbsp; The rest of the family has, aunts, uncles, cousins, they have all been invited.&amp;nbsp; I'm pretty sure ours have been lost in the mail.&amp;nbsp; There's no way my SIL would not invite us on purpose.&amp;nbsp; Is there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't yet decided if I should save the date just in case I get the invite at the last minute or go ahead and make other plans.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-8378037631831045217?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8378037631831045217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8378037631831045217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8378037631831045217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8378037631831045217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/07/lost-in-mail.html' title='Lost in the mail'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-6335397528402608648</id><published>2011-07-11T09:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T09:38:51.013-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I didn't think the weekend was EVER going to end!</title><content type='html'>Two visits to the dr, lasting a total of 3.5 hours,&amp;nbsp;for them to&amp;nbsp;tell&amp;nbsp;me&amp;nbsp;I have&amp;nbsp;a UTI, which I knew going in.&amp;nbsp; (horrible!&amp;nbsp; It involved a PA ,who had to give me a pelvic exam and I was wondering who was going to cry first him or the nurse!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A play date with one of Tink's friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A trip to the lake&amp;nbsp;for Tink and Hubb's to fish and then Tink to play with two of my nieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A trip to the mall to buy a last minute birthday gift for my mom, then a visit with her for her birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My granddad telling me I have gained weight all over and am looking kinda chubby.&amp;nbsp; (not nice!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A birthday party for two of my cousins' children.&amp;nbsp; (One who is a sweet boy, the other is a little jerk who hated everthing anyone got him. This was at my Aunt's house and was a swim party like the one last month and again I wouldn't allow Tink to swim which brough about LOTS of complaining from my mom!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink got bee stung at the birthday party and just wanted to go home.&amp;nbsp; Sadly since we rode with my mom and she wasn't ready to leave yet we had to sit there for almost 2 hours while Tink's hand hurt.&amp;nbsp; (Not a fun time!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the entire weekend I felt like crap!&amp;nbsp; I still do in fact.&amp;nbsp; Today I am back at the office feeling crappy, maybe I will skip out of here early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only bright spot was that I got to spend the entire weekend with Tink and Hubbs.&amp;nbsp; I love those two!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-6335397528402608648?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/6335397528402608648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=6335397528402608648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6335397528402608648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6335397528402608648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-didnt-think-weekend-was-ever-going-to.html' title='I didn&apos;t think the weekend was EVER going to end!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-5271667002446644828</id><published>2011-06-28T09:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T09:29:33.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Forest critters - 1, Hubbs - 0</title><content type='html'>The "Father's Day" gift that Hubbs got this year is coming in handy already!&amp;nbsp; Hubbs went up to check on his game camera yesterday and found his deer feeder had been taken apart and the pieces were thrown all over the ground.&amp;nbsp; He was a bit ticked.&amp;nbsp; He retrieved the memory card from the camera and brought it to the house to see who had done this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon looking through the 350 pics on the camera from just a couple of days we figured out who was to blame.&amp;nbsp; It wasn't the two large bucks or the doe that have been coming in to feed every night.&amp;nbsp; It was the 5 BIG raccoons that come in every night to eat up most of the corn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the big critters get bored with just eating they use the feeder to practice their acrobatic feats.&amp;nbsp; They climb up the legs and hang from the underside and eventually take apart the motor and battery cover and throw them then try to reach inside to get more food.&amp;nbsp; Little rascals!&amp;nbsp; They sure are cute!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly they are now on Hubb's list of animals that must go.&amp;nbsp; This week live traps are being set to try to trap them.&amp;nbsp; They will then be relocated to his cousin's property where the guys coon hunt.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-5271667002446644828?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/5271667002446644828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=5271667002446644828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5271667002446644828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5271667002446644828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/06/forest-critters-1-hubbs-0.html' title='Forest critters - 1, Hubbs - 0'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8127395382774379574</id><published>2011-06-24T14:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T14:46:36.363-04:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Week Ultrasound pic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l4vFystKM-k/TgTbQvMpoMI/AAAAAAAAApA/fVXloMHiBHM/s1600/Scan0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="245" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l4vFystKM-k/TgTbQvMpoMI/AAAAAAAAApA/fVXloMHiBHM/s320/Scan0003.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is our baby boy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-8127395382774379574?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8127395382774379574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8127395382774379574' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8127395382774379574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8127395382774379574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/06/20-week-ultrasound-pic.html' title='20 Week Ultrasound pic'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l4vFystKM-k/TgTbQvMpoMI/AAAAAAAAApA/fVXloMHiBHM/s72-c/Scan0003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1771523281428447657</id><published>2011-06-24T08:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T08:58:02.077-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Father's Day a little late</title><content type='html'>Last night Hubbs came home from work with a bag from Walmart.&amp;nbsp; When I asked what was in it he said it was his Father's Day gift from Tink, he had picked it up on his lunch break.&amp;nbsp; When he opened it up it was a new game camera to hang near his deer feeder.&amp;nbsp; Apparently Tink and I were very generous this year. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1771523281428447657?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1771523281428447657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1771523281428447657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1771523281428447657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1771523281428447657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/06/fathers-day-little-late.html' title='Father&apos;s Day a little late'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-630202555647687104</id><published>2011-06-23T09:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T09:34:16.957-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another rant.  It's cheaper than therapy :)</title><content type='html'>As much as I love my mother, she is driving me nuts!&amp;nbsp; I know I complain about her all the time, but really she's driving me nuts!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She's bossy, she tries to run my life, she's nibby, she thinks she can take over and raise Tink and will only get worse once the new baby comes, she NEVER has anything nice to say to me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Last night she informed me I need a hair cut "Your hair is looking pretty thin and stringy you need to cut it."&amp;nbsp; I just smiled and nodded, I didn't tell her I am letting it grow out.&amp;nbsp; I told ya, she's really sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live next door to my parents.&amp;nbsp; Not so good&amp;nbsp;for the driving me nuts part!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still own a house in town, we have been remodeling the house since we got married and lived among the mess for years, then moved next door to my parents a couple of years ago.&amp;nbsp; We thought moving out of the mess would help us remodel faster, but the money runs low and the remodel slows down or stops for a while then picks back up when we have the money to sink into it.&amp;nbsp; It's nearly finished now.&amp;nbsp; We planned to sell the house once it is done.&amp;nbsp; Selling would get us totally out of debt and we could start fresh with a house we love in the country.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I have recently started thinking about moving back to the house in town to get away from my parents.&amp;nbsp; I know in my head it's not a great idea, we really don't want to live in town again and we would all be unhappy living there.&amp;nbsp; But I am totally unhappy living where we do now.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also suggested moving out of state, then we wouldn't have to live near any family members!&amp;nbsp; That's what I'm talking about!&amp;nbsp; Hubbs is not so thrilled with the idea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-630202555647687104?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/630202555647687104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=630202555647687104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/630202555647687104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/630202555647687104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/06/another-rant-its-cheaper-than-therapy.html' title='Another rant.  It&apos;s cheaper than therapy :)'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-6708653050333503015</id><published>2011-06-23T09:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T09:19:38.325-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you help?</title><content type='html'>I have tons of pics that I have been wanting to upload to my page.&amp;nbsp; Everytime I try to upload a pic it tells me it is loading, but then nothing EVER happens!&amp;nbsp; Any suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-6708653050333503015?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/6708653050333503015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=6708653050333503015' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6708653050333503015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6708653050333503015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/06/can-you-help.html' title='Can you help?'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1414903461055305037</id><published>2011-06-21T10:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T10:07:39.135-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No pool party for us.</title><content type='html'>Last night I managed to tick my mom of yet AGAIN.&amp;nbsp; It happens almost daily.&amp;nbsp; I really don't get concerned about it at this point.&amp;nbsp; As long as I know I am doing what is best for my child, she is just going to have to live with it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the scoop:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our entire family was invited to my cousin's son's birthday this coming weekend.&amp;nbsp; It is going to be a pool party at my aunt's house.&amp;nbsp; The problems start there.&amp;nbsp; You see, my aunt doesn't clean her pool regularly and&amp;nbsp;doesn't check the chemicals they just keep adding more chlorine.&amp;nbsp; The children are unsupervised in the pool, even during parties.&amp;nbsp; Granted it's only 4 feet deep, but some of the kids can't touch and they babysit themselves.&amp;nbsp; There are at least 12 kids in the pool at all times and they are mean.&amp;nbsp; That being said, I told Tink she can not swim at the party.&amp;nbsp; Tink was not happy, but didn't argue.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently yesterday my mom was talking to Tink about the party and Tink told her she wasn't allowed to swim there.&amp;nbsp; My mom decided&amp;nbsp;Tink can swim at the party and when I came home from work she informed me she would go to the pool and supervise the kids while Tink was in if that was my problem.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I explained my other reasons and told her there would still be no swimming for Tink.&amp;nbsp; This did not go over well.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we may just send a gift and skip the party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1414903461055305037?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1414903461055305037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1414903461055305037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1414903461055305037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1414903461055305037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/06/no-pool-party-for-us.html' title='No pool party for us.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-5613211313445145106</id><published>2011-06-20T13:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T13:59:06.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quotes from Tink</title><content type='html'>"Mom, maybe if I pray REALLY hard, God will change his mind and turn the baby into a girl before he's born."&amp;nbsp; Hmmm, good luck with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I hope when I grow up I have a little girl just like me and she thinks I'm a sweet momma just like you."&amp;nbsp; Man, I love this kid!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-5613211313445145106?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/5613211313445145106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=5613211313445145106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5613211313445145106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5613211313445145106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/06/quotes-from-tink.html' title='Quotes from Tink'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-9180898683174954154</id><published>2011-06-17T11:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T11:51:02.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'>20 weeks</title><content type='html'>Today I went for my 20 week ob visit and ultrasound.&amp;nbsp; Hubbs and Tink went to the ultrasound with me.&amp;nbsp; We found out we are having a BOY!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs and I were thrilled.&amp;nbsp; Of course we would have been thrilled if we had found out we were having a girl too.&amp;nbsp; We are just thrilled we are having a baby, finally.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink almost cried when they told us.&amp;nbsp; She wanted a sister so badly.&amp;nbsp; I told her it would be ok, she wouldn't have to share all her girlie stuff this way.&amp;nbsp; That made her feel a little better.&amp;nbsp; Poor kid.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say give her a day and she will be ok with this and super excited when I let her help pick out things for his room and his clothes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-9180898683174954154?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/9180898683174954154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=9180898683174954154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/9180898683174954154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/9180898683174954154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/06/20-weeks.html' title='20 weeks'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4777818278002096503</id><published>2011-06-14T12:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T12:10:45.042-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do I do this to myself?!</title><content type='html'>I volunteer to do all sorts of crazy things.&amp;nbsp; Not just once.&amp;nbsp; But year after year.&amp;nbsp; What is wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VBS started yesterday.&amp;nbsp; Guess who volunteered to be a leader for the 4-6 year olds, again?&amp;nbsp; Yeppers!&amp;nbsp; Apparently I didn't learn my lesson last year.&amp;nbsp; Somehow out of the 150ish 4-6 year olds that are at VBS I ended up with some of the same behavior problem children I had last year.&amp;nbsp; And for some reason they are the ones that love me the most.&amp;nbsp; One little boy wants to share my chair, hold my hand 24/7, and when I am trying to do anything he is right behind me poking me in the back.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am praying for my sanity already.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4777818278002096503?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4777818278002096503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4777818278002096503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4777818278002096503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4777818278002096503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/06/why-do-i-do-this-to-myself.html' title='Why do I do this to myself?!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-2089428899509331777</id><published>2011-06-07T10:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T10:56:00.345-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer break is official.</title><content type='html'>The last day of school for Tink was Friday. She is not thrilled that school is out. She has informed me that she would like to go to school all year. Really??? Then why all the fussing when I had to wake her up for school every day? I don't get her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me summer break doesn't officially start until I get the first emergency call from my mom while I'm at work and she has Tink. I got the call this morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm at the mall with Tink. They have crackle nail polish here, but she can't decide what color to get. Pink, purple, white or black? What do you think?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you have got to be kidding me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-2089428899509331777?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/2089428899509331777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=2089428899509331777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2089428899509331777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2089428899509331777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/06/summer-break-is-official.html' title='Summer break is official.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3953390808005795960</id><published>2011-05-31T09:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T12:41:22.422-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A lesson on bugs.</title><content type='html'>I love car rides with Tink. I learn all sorts of interesting things that are going on in her life at school. Today it was a lesson on bugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, I know why some bugs are crunchy and some are soft. The crunchy ones have an exoskeleton. Sometimes during bean bag share time Bracie in my class talks about bugs too, they are his favorite things. My favorite things are flying, rainbow colored unicorns and pink sparkles. They are awesome!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet they are awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-3953390808005795960?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3953390808005795960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3953390808005795960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3953390808005795960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3953390808005795960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/05/lesson-on-bugs.html' title='A lesson on bugs.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-5157246664684136424</id><published>2011-05-25T13:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T13:22:03.455-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I catch myself referring to the new baby by the girl name we have picked out ALL the time. I have to say, if it is a boy I will be shocked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-5157246664684136424?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/5157246664684136424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=5157246664684136424' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5157246664684136424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5157246664684136424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-catch-myself-referring-to-new-baby-by.html' title=''/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-5300186962825689157</id><published>2011-05-25T10:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T10:49:07.665-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Car conversation</title><content type='html'>On the way to school this morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mama, Do I have a pretty voice when I sing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You sure do sweetie." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's a secret, no one knows but you and Daddy. I only sing when I'm with you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say I was a bit shocked, Tink NEVER stops singing and making up new songs when we are together. Somehow I just figured she sings when she is at school or at my mom's too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-5300186962825689157?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/5300186962825689157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=5300186962825689157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5300186962825689157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5300186962825689157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/05/car-conversation.html' title='Car conversation'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1719783856991379463</id><published>2011-05-11T10:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T10:19:40.230-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Off to a great start!</title><content type='html'>Much to my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;surprise&lt;/span&gt; I am off to a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;great&lt;/span&gt; start this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I climbed out of bed &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hubbs&lt;/span&gt; jumped up and said he needed the shower first. I thought this would surely ruin any chances of getting out of the house on time. Somehow it did not. In fact it boosted my morning into overdrive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my list of things accomplished this morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Load of laundry into the dryer and dried before I left the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Load of laundry into washer to be turned on when I get home later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shower and ready for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; up and ready for school, without any clothing or hair issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast made for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; and myself and eaten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunches packed for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; and myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner in the crock pot and turned on, just need to make mashed potatoes later to go with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dogs fed and taken out to potty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; to school on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At work on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am totally impressed with myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of tomorrow I will be 15 weeks &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;preggo&lt;/span&gt;. I am finally getting some energy back and the morning sickness is all but gone. Thank you God!! Hopefully I keep feeling good and can have more mornings like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after work I am off to get &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; from school then home to finish up dinner for when &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hubbs&lt;/span&gt; gets there so we can eat and get &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; to her soccer game at 6.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1719783856991379463?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1719783856991379463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1719783856991379463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1719783856991379463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1719783856991379463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/05/off-to-great-start.html' title='Off to a great start!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-5975118533173194562</id><published>2011-05-05T09:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T09:57:29.888-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Little kiss up!</title><content type='html'>Tink (from the bathroom): Momma, I need to tell you something I've never told you before!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'm not coming in there to wipe your tushie, you are a big girl and know how to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink: NOOO! It's really important! You're really beautiful momma. Now will you wipe my butusky?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hmm, I'm onto you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink erupted in giggles: You are still beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-5975118533173194562?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/5975118533173194562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=5975118533173194562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5975118533173194562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5975118533173194562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/05/little-kiss-up.html' title='Little kiss up!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4373519168429464211</id><published>2011-05-04T08:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T09:40:23.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another one bites the dust.</title><content type='html'>So lately I have been on a roll. It seems like I am pissing someone off daily around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time it's my mom, my brother and my SIL over a 4-wheeler. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me give the back story on the 4-wheeler. It is a battery powered plastic toy, like the barbie jeep type. It belonged to my parent's neighbor's grandkid. When the little girl out grew it she brought it to my parent's house and said she wanted to give it to the kids, meaning Tink and my nephews. The 4-wheeler sat on the front porch for over a year. When we moved next door to my parents Tink started riding the 4-wheeler and it eventually migrated to our shed to be kept charged. Anytime my nephews wanted to ride it they did. Last summer the battery quit working properly and Tink decided to use $65.00 of her birthday money to buy a new battery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week my SIL called my mom and said she wanted the 4-wheeler at her house for my nephews, since it was theirs to begin with. Not one to argue I said that was fine, but they needed to either leave the battery and buy a new one or pay Tink $50.00 for that one. They agreed to this and picked it up on Sunday while I was not home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After they got the toy home my SIL called and told my mom that she would give $35.00 since the battery was used. I did not feel this was right and called her back to tell her so. No one would answer my calls, so I left a message. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This ticked my mom off. She is EXTREMELY mad that I had the nerve to call my SIL and tell her she was being unfair to Tink and needed to pay the $50.00 or return the battery to me. (It's my mom's goal in life to kiss my SIL's ass to make sure she likes my mom.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have since seen my SIL twice at soccer and she has avoided me and refused to even look at me. This morning I get a phone call from my SIL. She was yelling about me talking to everyone on the soccer team about her and how our problems are none of their business. I did sit and talk to other mom's at soccer, but my SIL was not the topic of conversation. I'm thinking she has a guilty conscience. I told her as much and proceeded to tell her she could kiss my ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait till my mom finds out I told my SIL that! She's REALLY gonna flip!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4373519168429464211?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4373519168429464211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4373519168429464211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4373519168429464211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4373519168429464211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/05/another-one-bites-dust.html' title='Another one bites the dust.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-126970794901179530</id><published>2011-04-29T11:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T10:43:42.661-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Doxa Week</title><content type='html'>What a CRAZY week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As some of you already know Tink and I are both part of the same dance company. She takes the Petite Praiser class, which is for 4 years to kindergarten, and I take the adult class. I have been the mom who coordinates her class for concert for the last 2 years. This semester I decided I would join the adults. I am so thankful I did! I am loving it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week was Doxa week. We had class or rehearsal every night getting ready for Friday's concert. They were about 3 hours each night. Not only did I dance I also coordinated the Petite class, making sure they are lined up correctly and on stage with the right prop at the right time and behaving in the audience between their dances. I did have another mom and my mom who sat with the girls while I was on stage or changing outfits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I was exhausted by Friday night. I really thought I would have a hard time going onto stage and preforming in front of approx 500 people, but I actually felt at peace and loved every minute of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We performed the story of Joseph. I really learned a lot doing the bible study that went along with this story. I am hopeful that everyone there now has a better understanding of the forgiveness and faithfulness that Joseph had for his family and God and will somehow weave this into their own lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-126970794901179530?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/126970794901179530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=126970794901179530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/126970794901179530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/126970794901179530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/04/doxa-week.html' title='Doxa Week'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-7819625062643253491</id><published>2011-04-25T13:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T13:55:13.386-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks Mom and Dad!</title><content type='html'>My parents made dinner for my birthday last Thursday. It was an interesting evening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They made bbq chicken on the grill and my all time favorite cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nephews were there. And were their usual terribly behaved selves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents got into a fight at dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all the commotion going on at the dinner table I didn't realize the chicken leg I was eating wasn't fully cooked. No one else had the legs, they snagged all the breasts while I was making Tink a plate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Mom and Dad, but next year I think I'll skip the food poisoning if it's all the same to you. I've never been so sick in my entire life!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-7819625062643253491?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/7819625062643253491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=7819625062643253491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7819625062643253491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7819625062643253491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/04/thanks-mom-and-dad.html' title='Thanks Mom and Dad!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-6966784932578134815</id><published>2011-04-21T13:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T13:51:29.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiet Birthdays are for sissies!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was my birthday. I am now 34. Yeah me!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how did I spend my day? I'm so glad you asked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dropped a cranky Tink off at school and spent the school day at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After school I picked Tink up and headed over to her friend Lexi's house for a play date while the mommas chatted. At Lexi's we ate pizza, made cupcakes and Tink tried to break her nose. Apparently she has recently discovered she is an Olympic gymnast in training. It seems you need a running start when you try to walk on your hands. And when you do a nose dive doing this it often leads to much blood and crying and rug burn down you nose and mouth. Who knew?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after all the fun was over we headed home to get soccer clothes and head over to practice. Did I mention it was parents vs kids night for a scrimmage? Of course Hubbs went back to work yesterday (FINALLY! after a 2 month layoff) and didn't make it home in time for practice. Guess who got to play? Yep, I was lucky enough to get to play!! &lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am qualified to play soccer! How dare you think I'm not coordinated enough to play soccer. That's just an ugly rumor Hubbs started! BTW, the kids rocked!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs called when we were pulling out of the parking lot at soccer. He had just pulled into town and was making me dinner at his mom's and then she was going to cut and color my hair as a bday gift. Score one for me! My MIL was actually pleasant during the visit. Shocking! Although for the record, when I mentioned the ultrasound last week she did quickly change the subject. She's nice like that. I guess I can't have it all on my bday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it ended up being an interesting day and evening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight my mom is making my family dinner for my bday. My brother and his monsters will be there. It's gonna be another great evening!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-6966784932578134815?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/6966784932578134815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=6966784932578134815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6966784932578134815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6966784932578134815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/04/quiet-birthdays-are-for-sissies.html' title='Quiet Birthdays are for sissies!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-891794428831789683</id><published>2011-04-13T12:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T12:33:10.061-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First OB visit.</title><content type='html'>I went to my first ob visit today. I found out a few interesting things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We have 1 (ONE) baby on the way! Not 2 as Hubbs was predicting. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am 11 weeks tomorrow. Which puts me due on Nov. 3. This I already knew. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I also have many small fibroids on my uterus, which will be monitored during and after this pregnancy. This I did not know.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I also had my first ultrasound and have pics to take home to Tink and Hubbs. Due to the fibroids I will be having MANY ultrasounds during this pregnancy. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;And like most pregnant women I have developed a heart murmur. I did not know this was common.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I HATE having blood drawn! I already knew this too, just thought I'd share. I was poked 3 times plus a lot of needle wiggling to get blood today. I warned the nurse she was going to have problems getting a vein when she walked into the room. She finally had to settle on a vein on the top of my hand.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lastly, I have gained 2 pounds so far. I was a little worried about this, I definatley have a pouch going on and was worried I had gained too much. I'm actually doing ok. I like to keep the weight gain under control! With Tink I gained 30 lbs, which was fine, but I then lost 65 due to breastfeeding.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-891794428831789683?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/891794428831789683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=891794428831789683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/891794428831789683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/891794428831789683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/04/first-ob-visit.html' title='First OB visit.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-6356420418346260884</id><published>2011-04-08T14:12:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T14:17:21.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Crap!!!  Not again!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday at work I ran the vacuum and cleaned the office a little bit. When I got home later I had a little bit of spotting. Crap! I took the rest of the evening off and stayed in the recliner while Hubbs took care of everything. I seem to be doing ok now. I am back at work today and taking it easy here. I did this my ENTIRE pregnancy with Tink. I went between light spotting and actual bleeding. I was constantly at the dr freaking out over it. I am trying not to freak out this time around. Until my visit on Wed I am going to try to take it easy so I hopefully won't have any more problems.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-6356420418346260884?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/6356420418346260884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=6356420418346260884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6356420418346260884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6356420418346260884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/04/crap-not-again.html' title='Crap!!!  Not again!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3589116392992850021</id><published>2011-04-07T09:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T09:11:46.645-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The general consensus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hubbs&lt;/span&gt; has been &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;referring&lt;/span&gt; to the baby as "Them." As in twins. He is positive we are having twins. The idea scares me a little. I talked to one of my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt; friends who had twins almost 3 years ago, she agrees that my chances are pretty good. It seems that when you are having twins y&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ou&lt;/span&gt; not only get large faster, your symptoms are often worse than regular pregnancy symptoms. I feel like I am the whiniest pregnant woman ever, but honestly I don't remember feeling this bad the first time around. Maybe it's just because I am older and have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; keeping me busy that is making me feel worse. All I want to do is sleep. I could sleep all day if I had the chance. My morning sickness is never ending. I feel nasty all day every day. My boobs are HUGE! Like overflowing from my bra already. They got huge with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt;, but not this early on, it was almost to the end before they were this large. My belly looks now at 10 weeks like I did with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; at 4 months. Maybe I'm just overreacting. I guess I'll find out what the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt; thinks next week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-3589116392992850021?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3589116392992850021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3589116392992850021' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3589116392992850021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3589116392992850021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/04/general-consensus.html' title='The general consensus'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-9172602533870215043</id><published>2011-04-06T13:30:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T09:01:04.701-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's going on at our house?</title><content type='html'>I don't remember EVER feeling this crappy. EVER! This morning sickness is never ending. I might (not positive about this) feel better if I could actually throw up. Instead I feel like I am about to all day long. And all night. It's a lovely feeling. I keep telling myself it will pass and the end result is sooo worth it! But honestly, who wants to feel like this!? It sucks. In other and less whiny news: Soccer season started this week. Tink's first practice was rained out on Monday. So tonight is her first practice. Tink is super excited! There are 8 kids on the team and Tink knows 5 of them. Three are girls from her class, one is my brother's youngest son and the other is Tink's friend's little brother. Should be a fun season!! We got news that Hubbs should be going back to work next week. Oh I hope so! Money is pretty tight right now. He's been off for 2 months. My first ob appointment is in one week! I can't wait! I am at 10 weeks right now. That's using my estimation, hopefully the dr puts me there or I would be happy with a few weeks ahead of that. One of my SIL's called me earlier this week and offered us baby stuff. Things like a crib, swing, car seat, stroller and other smaller items. We have nothing left from Tink. We didn't think we would have more kids and got rid of EVERYTHING. I gave some of our stuff to this SIL and now she is returning the favor. It's great to have SILs like that! I think that's about all that is going on at our house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-9172602533870215043?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/9172602533870215043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=9172602533870215043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/9172602533870215043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/9172602533870215043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/04/whats-going-on-at-our-house.html' title='What&apos;s going on at our house?'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8605934449179709291</id><published>2011-03-25T12:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T12:41:53.208-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Plans</title><content type='html'>Seeing how my weekend plans (sleeping from now until Monday morning) have been shot all to heck I guess I am going to go along with everyone else's plans.  But I'll probably be grouchy along the way, just so you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink has been invited to a birthday party for one of the little girls in her dance group.  I usually ditch the party invites as soon as I see them, but this little girl has been Tink's friend for a while through dance and her mom and I dance together.  We also do play dates for the girls on occasion, so I agreed to go to this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 15 hair bows that need to be made this weekend.  I should have already had them made and delivered.  I don't even have the clips for some of them and for one I need gray ribbon.  Where am I going to find gray ribbon?!  So, needless to say I have been slacking on these.  In my own defense all I want to do when I get home from work everyday is go to sleep.  I make sure Tink has her homework done and play tea party or a game with her then I am out.  Luckily Hubbs has been making dinner on most nights, otherwise we would all starve. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we have church on Sun morning and someone has got to go to the grocery store!  Sadly, it's not going to be Hubbs going to the store. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, this is usually nothing for me.  I could do all these things in one day and think nothing of it.  Right now I am just REALLY tired, whiny, crabby and nauseous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-8605934449179709291?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8605934449179709291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8605934449179709291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8605934449179709291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8605934449179709291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/weekend-plans.html' title='Weekend Plans'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8774242594856743538</id><published>2011-03-22T13:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T13:41:48.514-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's funny how sometimes you end up being friends with someone and it seems like you have been friends forever.   It's like that with me and my friend Whitney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to school together &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waaaay&lt;/span&gt; back when.  Whitney was a little younger than me and I remember seeing her in the halls, but I'm not sure we ever even talked.  She was then best friends with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hubb's&lt;/span&gt; twin Court, so she spent a lot of time at his house growing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ALOT&lt;/span&gt; of years and add &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; and blogging in there and Whitney and I have ended up becoming friends.  We kept saying we were going to get our girls together to play, they seemed so much alike.  We finally made a date and met up to let them play.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; usually doesn't warm up to people very fast, so I was a little shocked that within a few minutes of knowing Whitney and her 3 kids she was actually talking to them.   Our girls are like two peas in a pod!  Silly peas!!  They were instant &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bffs&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All three of Whitney's kids are pretty awesome.  And it's like Whitney and I have known each other forever.  We have them over for dinner and play dates often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part is, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hubbs&lt;/span&gt; even likes them.  He usually shuts himself in the bedroom when I get company so he doesn't have to socialize with anyone.   But seeing how he grew up with Whitney he actually likes her and stays to socialize and cooks for us.  He likes her kids too.  Amazing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Whitney and the kids, they are on their way over tomorrow evening for pizza and baking cookies.  Guess that means I need to quit blogging and get my house cleaned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-8774242594856743538?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8774242594856743538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8774242594856743538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8774242594856743538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8774242594856743538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/its-funny-how-sometimes-you-end-up.html' title=''/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-6382370178778402472</id><published>2011-03-22T11:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T11:53:30.189-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice try!</title><content type='html'>On the way to school today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink:  Mom, if I'm really good at school today can I get a prize?&lt;br /&gt;Me: No.  You don't have a choice about being good at school and you're not getting anything until Easter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-6382370178778402472?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/6382370178778402472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=6382370178778402472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6382370178778402472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6382370178778402472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/nice-try.html' title='Nice try!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8308670787418252971</id><published>2011-03-22T10:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T10:45:52.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Craving</title><content type='html'>With Tink I craved Chick-fil-a sandwiches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time I am craving&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pot roast with gravy and potatoes and carrots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;open faced hot turkey sandwiches with mashed potatoes and gravy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fresh strawberries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pineapple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;salads with baby greens, mozzeralla cheese, chickpeas, olives and loads of tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pizza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;homemade french fries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs it seems is craving things like cookies and little debbie cakes. Ick!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to eat my lunch, I'm starving!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-8308670787418252971?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8308670787418252971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8308670787418252971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8308670787418252971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8308670787418252971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/craving.html' title='Craving'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-29880562644293537</id><published>2011-03-18T15:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T15:07:37.989-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My heart is hurting.</title><content type='html'>A dear friend of mine is going through a very hard time right now.  Even though we are hundreds of miles apart and I haven't seen her in years my heart is breaking for her.  Please know that I love you dear friend and am praying for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-29880562644293537?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/29880562644293537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=29880562644293537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/29880562644293537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/29880562644293537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-heart-is-hurting.html' title='My heart is hurting.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1093753910543196021</id><published>2011-03-18T09:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T09:17:55.387-04:00</updated><title type='text'>St. Patty's Day shennanigans.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday after school Tink was brimming over with stories of her day.  They all included a pesky leprechaun that somehow got into the fortress they call a school (apparently he makes an appearance here every year.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like the litte bugger got into the school early yesterday morning and wrecked havoc on all the class rooms.  Books and nap towels were pushed into the floor, chairs overturned and some put on top of the tables.  Luckily Tink's teacher remembered to put out a leprechaun trap and the little trickster was caught.  He was never actually seen by the kids, since seeing a leprechaun is bad luck, but the trap was still in the class room and Tink swears she heard him calling "Let me out!"  That's proof enough for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink estimates him to be about 6 inches tall since the trap was only about the size of a shoe box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he left behind some gold covered chocolate coins for the kids.   The teacher was taking him outside to be released into the wild after school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds like a fun day to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1093753910543196021?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1093753910543196021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1093753910543196021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1093753910543196021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1093753910543196021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/st-pattys-day-shennanigans.html' title='St. Patty&apos;s Day shennanigans.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-228419545179167038</id><published>2011-03-16T12:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T12:05:34.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Call from Hubbs</title><content type='html'>Hubbs - "How's your day going?" &lt;br /&gt;Me - "I'm extremely nauseous today."&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs - "I think you're pregnant."&lt;br /&gt;Me - "Ya think?"  I'd laugh if I didn't feel so sick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-228419545179167038?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/228419545179167038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=228419545179167038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/228419545179167038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/228419545179167038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/call-from-hubbs.html' title='Call from Hubbs'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4373607236195012824</id><published>2011-03-15T09:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T09:57:57.239-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Already?!</title><content type='html'>I could barely get my jeans buttoned this morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink came in while I was getting dressed.  In baby talk she tells me  "Awww, look you're getting a cute wittle pudgy belly.   How cootie!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Tink, momma loves you.  And apparently she sees no need to wait for the baby to be born to talk baby talk to it or to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4373607236195012824?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4373607236195012824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4373607236195012824' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4373607236195012824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4373607236195012824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/already.html' title='Already?!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8806999510817589683</id><published>2011-03-14T10:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T11:18:06.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Baby News</title><content type='html'>Most of the people that Hubbs and I have told about the baby are very happy for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His mother, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Hubbs called and told his mom her response was "On Purpose?" Hubbs told her "Nope, we haven't figured out how that happens yet." That was the end of it. She moved on to another subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we went to Hubb's Grandmother's 93rd birthday.   The entire family was there, we have not seen any of them since we found out about the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ONLY people who congratulated us on the baby were Hubb's step dad, Hubb's brothers and their wives and Hubb's sister and her boyfriend and the lady who lives next door to Hubb's mom.  My MIL didn't even speak to me.   Man, she's even lovelier than I remember her being when I was preggo with Tink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-8806999510817589683?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8806999510817589683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8806999510817589683' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8806999510817589683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8806999510817589683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/baby-news.html' title='The Baby News'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-2087003612714860332</id><published>2011-03-14T09:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T09:48:52.799-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Surgery for TInk.</title><content type='html'>Tink's surgery on Fri was a success.  I was less nervous than I thought I would be.  I think all the prayers helped.  Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to get up at 3:30 to make sure we made it to the hospital before 6am.  So momma was very sleep deprived.   Tink was a little nervous that morning.  Once we got to the pre-op room and all the nurses and the dr came in and talked to her she was ok.  The anesthesiologist gave Tink the option of having me go with her to the o.r. until she was asleep.  This made Tink feel much better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was time to go back to the o.r. Tink decided she didn't want me to go with her.  Hubbs and I waited in the pre-op room.  The surgery only lasted 25 minutes total.  The dr brought us out pics of Tink's belly.  Looked good.  No ulcers or other visible problems.  Tink woke up smiling and asking to go to school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't let her go to school, but we did take her to breakfast.  She ate like she was starved then slept the whole way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so proud of Tink.  My baby is such a big girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are waiting on the biopsy results to see if there is an acid problem in that belly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-2087003612714860332?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/2087003612714860332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=2087003612714860332' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2087003612714860332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2087003612714860332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/surgery-for-tink.html' title='Surgery for TInk.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-7764338947060422713</id><published>2011-03-10T12:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T12:26:32.461-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Apparently I need a zipper.</title><content type='html'>So, I was just talking to hubbs and was complaining about a supplier for my bow business taking two weeks to ship items they told me would ship within 5 days.  Of course when I called the supplier out on this she deleted all my comments from her facebook page and then told me it didn't take two weeks to ship.  What!?  I ordered and paid for the items on 2/24, they just shipped yesterday 3/9.  That's two weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This makes me and my business look bad.  I am a little ticked.  I told the woman as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs pointed out that when I am preggo I somehow loose all ability to keep my mouth shut.  Oh well.  What's a girl to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else have this problem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The keeping the mouth shut problem, not the sucky supplier problem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-7764338947060422713?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/7764338947060422713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=7764338947060422713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7764338947060422713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7764338947060422713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/apparently-i-need-zipper.html' title='Apparently I need a zipper.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4104928288476864205</id><published>2011-03-08T10:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T10:26:53.072-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The ones that didn't make the cut.</title><content type='html'>We already have baby names picked out.  I'm kinda weird like that.  When I was preggo with Tink I had her first name picked out way before she was conceived, it did take us a while to come up with her middle name.  We could not compromise on a boys name.  Luckily we found out early on she was a girl so we quit worrying about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had an ongoing name list since Tink was born.  This time we sat down as a family and went over the list as soon as we found out there was going to be a baby.  I had tons of names that I liked.  Hubbs had no additional suggestions, but vetoed most of mine.  Tink had suggestions of her own, most did not make the list of options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink's list:&lt;br /&gt;Isabella (her favorite imaginary friend's name, also her new best friend's name)&lt;br /&gt;Bella (imaginary friend #2)&lt;br /&gt;Arabella (also an occasional imaginary friend)&lt;br /&gt;Corrine (name of a soccer team mate's little sister)&lt;br /&gt;Anyone noticing a pattern?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My list:&lt;br /&gt;Foster&lt;br /&gt;Thomas (Hubb's Dad's middle name)&lt;br /&gt;Asher&lt;br /&gt;Liam&lt;br /&gt;Gray&lt;br /&gt;Lawson&lt;br /&gt;Jackson&lt;br /&gt;Carter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avery&lt;br /&gt;Mary (name of both my grandma's and Hubb's grandma)&lt;br /&gt;Makinley&lt;br /&gt;Macey&lt;br /&gt;Coraline&lt;br /&gt;Piper (Tink has decided this isn't even a name.)&lt;br /&gt;Braelyn&lt;br /&gt;Mary Grace&lt;br /&gt;Mary Claire&lt;br /&gt;Cora&lt;br /&gt;Joshlyn&lt;br /&gt;Raegan&lt;br /&gt;Arabella (Tink's only suggestion that I included in the list)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Hubbs was pretty certain I had a presidential theme going.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The list was much longer, these are just a few.  None of these made it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4104928288476864205?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4104928288476864205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4104928288476864205' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4104928288476864205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4104928288476864205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/ones-that-didnt-make-cut.html' title='The ones that didn&apos;t make the cut.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-169461589777865838</id><published>2011-03-08T08:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T09:06:06.419-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big News!</title><content type='html'>Tink has surgery on Fri of this week.  We have been managing her belly pain with acid reducers for 18 months now.  The meds just aren't totally kicking the pain.  We went for a ped specialist consult and they want to see what's going on in there.  She is now scheduled for an upper GI scope and biopsy.  Hopefully we get some answers.  I am going to be a wreck the day of the procedure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also have good news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a baby on the way!  Finally!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been trying for almost two years now.  In fact the last time I visited my ob/gyn she wanted to send me to a fertility specialist.  I declined.  I told her I had put the matter in God's hands and if he thought we needed a baby, he would give us one.  And he did.  I am feeling so very blessed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am only about four weeks along right now.  It is a little early to start telling everyone.  But Hubbs decided he can't wait, we must tell now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink was the first person we told.  She is thrilled with the idea of being a big sister.  As long as she has a little sister.  She's determined it's going to be a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs is sure it's a boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want a healthy baby and an easy pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink is already picking out which toys and books she is going to give the baby.  She is planning on teaching the baby to read as soon as it's born.  Poor baby, it's going to have two mothers and I'm the less bossy of the two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night at my dance class the other women all prayed for me and the baby and Tink.  I have never had anyone pray for me before.  I was extremely touched and cried.  Being a part of these women is a great blessing to me.  I am so happy I stepped out of my comfort zone and joined the class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-169461589777865838?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/169461589777865838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=169461589777865838' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/169461589777865838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/169461589777865838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/big-news.html' title='Big News!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1994795183605643716</id><published>2011-03-01T10:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T11:04:26.099-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Housecleaning</title><content type='html'>Today I went &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;through&lt;/span&gt; my friend list on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; and deleted a few people.  I feel bad about this.  Sorta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all honesty, I feel this is something that I have needed to do for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the deleted friends are people I haven't talked to in 15 or 20 years and was never &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;particularly&lt;/span&gt; close to even then.  One was a woman who was considered my closest friend until about 2 months ago.  I'm not really sure what happened to the friendship, but it has gone downhill very quickly and I fell it is necessary to cut her out of my life completely to rid myself of the negative feelings I now have toward her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling better already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1994795183605643716?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1994795183605643716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1994795183605643716' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1994795183605643716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1994795183605643716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/03/housecleaning.html' title='Housecleaning'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-5058643610727815998</id><published>2011-02-15T10:08:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T10:55:09.118-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Blog,</title><content type='html'>I'm afraid I didn't realize how neglectful I had become until I clicked on view blog today. I have been reading all the other blogs I follow, just not posting here.  I am soooo sorry!  I am a bad blogger!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my own defense I have been rather busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a small, but steady stream of customers over at Ainsley's Closet on facebook. Which I am LOVING! I have been making more and more hair bows and am now making shirts and matching bows and tutus. Totally cute!  I am also getting special orders and love making things for all the little princesses out there.   At first people were looking, but no one was buying, recently things have been picking up and it's awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I joined Tink's dance group. (The adult class, not the kiddie class.)  It's called Doxa Dance and is a christian dance group, all types of dance are incorporated: ballet, folk, hip hop.  It's all set to christian music.  Dancing is a little out of my comfort zone and I feel out of practice since I haven't danced in 17 years.  This is my ME time.  I send Tink home with Hubbs and I get to enjoy the 90 minutes of class with the other moms.  They are all pretty funny and goofy and we do a lot of laughing during class.  We also have bible study at the beginning of each class and I am learning a lot.   I have been helping in the kiddie class a little and love all the girls in Tink's class.  For the most part they have been dancing together for 4 semesters now and you get to know each of their personalities a little, they are adorable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still working full time and enjoy my job.  There are some days that it gets a little crazy at the office, but for the most part it's pretty quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs got laid off last week.  We're not sure how long he will be off work.  It looks like it may be a month or two.  This REALLY stinks!  In the meantime the extra income I have from Ainsley's Closet is paying for dance classes and for soccer sign ups.  Hmmm, guess having my own business is paying off a little, right Hubbs?  ( Before Hubbs thought Ainsley's Closet was a big waste of my time, now he admits the stuff I make is adorable and is worth the time I put into it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no baby.  Although right now with only my income that's not such a bad thing.  Once Hubbs goes back to work it won't be such a big worry.  Who knows, maybe Hubbs being home all the time will help in the baby department ;)  With a cousin having a little one any time now and a friend from high school having one later this year I am still going to get to make all the adorable baby things I have floating around in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to work now.  I will be posting more soon.  With pics.  I have tons of pics to post!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-5058643610727815998?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/5058643610727815998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=5058643610727815998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5058643610727815998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5058643610727815998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2011/02/dear-blog.html' title='Dear Blog,'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-833472483665999368</id><published>2010-10-20T11:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T11:43:18.815-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Review and Giveaway</title><content type='html'>Want to win something adorable from my online store?  Visit &lt;a href="http://www.trying2staycalm.com/"&gt;www.trying2staycalm.com&lt;/a&gt; for your chance to win!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sooo excited to be featured by Shauna at Trying 2 Stay Calm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-833472483665999368?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/833472483665999368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=833472483665999368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/833472483665999368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/833472483665999368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/10/review-and-giveaway.html' title='Review and Giveaway'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-5154052540233319593</id><published>2010-09-27T11:22:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T12:49:57.618-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ainsley's Closet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;New items at Ainsley's Closet on Facebook.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TKC6DJFSQcI/AAAAAAAAAos/tFw8UxTaLSk/s1600/Tu+Tu+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TKC6CziFerI/AAAAAAAAAok/GzuTVLH-dUU/s1600/pink+bug+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 253px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521617700511906482" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TKC6CziFerI/AAAAAAAAAok/GzuTVLH-dUU/s320/pink+bug+2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Pink and black bug barrette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TKC6CfRAn_I/AAAAAAAAAoc/Pd7NdyMv8pI/s1600/DSCN0258.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TKC6BykkurI/AAAAAAAAAoU/7MDR0NAZ3s8/s1600/bee.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521617683074038450" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TKC6BykkurI/AAAAAAAAAoU/7MDR0NAZ3s8/s320/bee.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bumble Bee barrette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/6288692919241397043-5154052540233319593?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/5154052540233319593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=5154052540233319593' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5154052540233319593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5154052540233319593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/09/ainsleys-closet.html' title='Ainsley&apos;s Closet'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TKC6CziFerI/AAAAAAAAAok/GzuTVLH-dUU/s72-c/pink+bug+2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4359384029449076779</id><published>2010-09-21T10:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T10:32:53.545-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy, busy, busy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have been busy lately.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Making jewelry&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBanvoBDI/AAAAAAAAAoM/GIzTki2URg8/s1600/Copy+of+WVU+bracelet+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519374006432039986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBanvoBDI/AAAAAAAAAoM/GIzTki2URg8/s320/Copy+of+WVU+bracelet+1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBaeSYT1I/AAAAAAAAAoE/hxPG2ZGG8VQ/s1600/Copy+of+Initial+necklace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 278px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519374003893456722" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBaeSYT1I/AAAAAAAAAoE/hxPG2ZGG8VQ/s320/Copy+of+Initial+necklace.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Making hairbows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBZ9HamXI/AAAAAAAAAn8/rWYwBi6mvmM/s1600/pink,+yellow,+green+bow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519373994989099378" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBZ9HamXI/AAAAAAAAAn8/rWYwBi6mvmM/s320/pink,+yellow,+green+bow.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBZY9qD8I/AAAAAAAAAn0/WiDNogArlTY/s1600/DSCN0266.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519373985284493250" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBZY9qD8I/AAAAAAAAAn0/WiDNogArlTY/s320/DSCN0266.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBY8LVgHI/AAAAAAAAAns/nDeH7LBJi74/s1600/DSCN0258.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519373977557237874" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBY8LVgHI/AAAAAAAAAns/nDeH7LBJi74/s320/DSCN0258.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making tu tus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjARxdtOeI/AAAAAAAAAnk/6b2PcHbNoRs/s1600/Ladybug+tu+tu+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 237px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519372754910788066" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjARxdtOeI/AAAAAAAAAnk/6b2PcHbNoRs/s320/Ladybug+tu+tu+1.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjARgzj8nI/AAAAAAAAAnc/ots0pauplSk/s1600/Tu+Tu+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 285px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519372750439051890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjARgzj8nI/AAAAAAAAAnc/ots0pauplSk/s320/Tu+Tu+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And making Tink model them for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjARCkRl-I/AAAAAAAAAnU/VRGRrQt6eDo/s1600/Tu+Tu+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519372742321870818" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjARCkRl-I/AAAAAAAAAnU/VRGRrQt6eDo/s320/Tu+Tu+5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4359384029449076779?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4359384029449076779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4359384029449076779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4359384029449076779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4359384029449076779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/09/busy-busy-busy.html' title='Busy, busy, busy'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TJjBanvoBDI/AAAAAAAAAoM/GIzTki2URg8/s72-c/Copy+of+WVU+bracelet+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-6034403829295617565</id><published>2010-09-13T12:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T12:31:05.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wonder how this is going to go?</title><content type='html'>I am a maker of things.  I always have been. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most recently I have been making:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bracelets for myself, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; and everyone else I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hair bows for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; and other little lovely girls in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blankets for the new babies in my life.  (I promised &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt; one long ago, better get to work on that!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dresses and skirts mostly just for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt;, although I do have the fabric to make myself one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tus&lt;/span&gt; for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink&lt;/span&gt;, who recently has decided she no longer likes &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tus&lt;/span&gt;. (This is breaking my heart!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week I had a woman at soccer fall in love with the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;hair bows&lt;/span&gt; I made for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tink's&lt;/span&gt; soccer team.  She asked if she could buy one for her younger daughter.  Once it was made and delivered she asked if I would make her 7 more to coordinate with other outfits.  I couldn't believe someone was willing to pay for the things I made.  I have since decided to make and try to sell some of my hair bows, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tus&lt;/span&gt;, bracelets and clothes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you or someone you know is interested in such things look me up on F&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;acebook&lt;/span&gt; at Ainsley's Closet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-6034403829295617565?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/6034403829295617565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=6034403829295617565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6034403829295617565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6034403829295617565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/09/wonder-how-this-is-going-to-go.html' title='Wonder how this is going to go?'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-7557308734735686820</id><published>2010-09-02T11:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T11:19:22.074-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2005</title><content type='html'>Tink has to know her birth date for school this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She already has the month and year down, we just had to add the year to it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She could remember the 2000 part, but was having trouble with the 5. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggested it would be easy to remember because she is 5 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A light went off in her head then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ohhh, so last year I was born in 2004, because I was 4 years old.  And next year it will be 2006, because I will be 6."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not exactly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-7557308734735686820?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/7557308734735686820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=7557308734735686820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7557308734735686820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7557308734735686820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/09/2005.html' title='2005'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3638190442069149476</id><published>2010-08-31T12:43:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T13:56:42.979-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Our week at the beach</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Was filled with:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Beautiful days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511616249680337506" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH0xxvx3mmI/AAAAAAAAAlk/lO6_GiZ_NsQ/s320/beach+2010+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fun in the sand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511619103303920386" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH00X2Wv6wI/AAAAAAAAAms/QxQ6I3yqlEM/s320/beach+2010+5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fun in the water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511616261037103106" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH0xyaFiGAI/AAAAAAAAAl0/-tCltgMu77U/s320/beach+2010+8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(This bird later pooed on me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;More sand fun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511616250257055090" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH0xxx7XnXI/AAAAAAAAAls/LH_e1LE9gHE/s320/beach+2010+9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fun playing put-put&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH05aqGA6KI/AAAAAAAAAnE/Z2DeXGk_WnU/s1600/beach+2010+6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511624649110251682" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH05aqGA6KI/AAAAAAAAAnE/Z2DeXGk_WnU/s320/beach+2010+6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fun on the amusement rides&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH05acq0pKI/AAAAAAAAAm8/_pTRBBZNk4s/s1600/beach+2010+10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511624645506540706" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH05acq0pKI/AAAAAAAAAm8/_pTRBBZNk4s/s320/beach+2010+10.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fun on the boardwalk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH05Z9J1EeI/AAAAAAAAAm0/LGFmkZWBHe8/s1600/beach+2010+7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 253px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511624637046657506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH05Z9J1EeI/AAAAAAAAAm0/LGFmkZWBHe8/s320/beach+2010+7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Fun at the Brass Balls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH00XbjclZI/AAAAAAAAAmk/z5lA_vjCOok/s1600/beach+2010+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 242px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511619096109421970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH00XbjclZI/AAAAAAAAAmk/z5lA_vjCOok/s320/beach+2010+4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basically, we had lots of FUN!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We spent most of our days laying on the beach and playing in the ocean.  Tink was determined that she could body board like the big kids.  And she did.  Even though she can barely swim she isn't afraid of being in the ocean.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Our evenings were spent walking the boardwalk, checking out the little shops and eating in the outdoor restaurants that line the 3 mile long boardwalk.  Another favorite is playing put-put golf in the evenings.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The dogs even enjoyed the vacation.  They were easy to travel with (especially after a tranquilizer for each dog) and were really well behaved the entire week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Vacationing with my SIL and her boyfriend was interesting.  We got to spend time with Court and got to know Nick.  We actually spent less time with them than I thought we would.  They did their own thing, mostly shopping, while we spent most of our time on the beach.  Hubbs' older brother and his family showed up the day before we left and stayed a few blocks away, so we got to spend a fun day on the beach with my BIL and niece on Fri.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I have to say the vacation was a success and we had a great time.  Although next year I think we should vacation alone.  Much less stress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/6288692919241397043-3638190442069149476?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3638190442069149476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3638190442069149476' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3638190442069149476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3638190442069149476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/08/our-week-at-beach.html' title='Our week at the beach'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TH0xxvx3mmI/AAAAAAAAAlk/lO6_GiZ_NsQ/s72-c/beach+2010+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3223841116378614527</id><published>2010-08-26T09:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T09:45:39.276-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The first day of kindergarten</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509713149493200818" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZu6vHXR7I/AAAAAAAAAkk/9ThiKww-grk/s320/school+2010+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509713157765361186" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZu7N7mbiI/AAAAAAAAAks/1bfZBoyj4AU/s320/school+2010+1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tink started kindergarten this week.  I honestly thought with it being a new school for her and no friends she would be nervous and not want to go.  Not so.  She was excited about meeting new friends and loves her teacher and her classroom.  My baby is growing up too fast!&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/6288692919241397043-3223841116378614527?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3223841116378614527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3223841116378614527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3223841116378614527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3223841116378614527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/08/first-day-of-kindergarten.html' title='The first day of kindergarten'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZu6vHXR7I/AAAAAAAAAkk/9ThiKww-grk/s72-c/school+2010+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-2061719693663683184</id><published>2010-08-11T11:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T11:07:32.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'>3</title><content type='html'>Three more days till beach time!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have most of the packing done and the house about half cleaned.  I hate coming home to a dirty house after vacation.  The rest of the week is going to be filled with packing, cleaning and a hair appointment for me and Tink. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soccer started again this week.  Tink is thrilled to be back out on the field again with her BFF Boo.  When we get home it will be time for school to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where has the summer gone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-2061719693663683184?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/2061719693663683184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=2061719693663683184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2061719693663683184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2061719693663683184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/08/3.html' title='3'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-5953681113542267916</id><published>2010-08-06T13:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T13:15:54.996-04:00</updated><title type='text'>10, 9, 8</title><content type='html'>The countdown is on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will be laying on the beach in 8 days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-5953681113542267916?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/5953681113542267916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=5953681113542267916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5953681113542267916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5953681113542267916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/08/10-9-8.html' title='10, 9, 8'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-5637090995295863933</id><published>2010-07-28T11:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T11:07:59.035-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What is that lovely scent?</title><content type='html'>Today my office stinks of floral ant and roach spray.  The can says it will kill spiders, it does not.  They are just floral scented spiders now.  I hate spiders!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-5637090995295863933?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/5637090995295863933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=5637090995295863933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5637090995295863933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5637090995295863933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/07/what-is-that-lovely-scent.html' title='What is that lovely scent?'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3008304088845251767</id><published>2010-07-22T10:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T11:07:07.239-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Small Town Parade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wanna know what a small town parade looks like?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496745712860737202" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEhdGlO3LrI/AAAAAAAAAj8/FX-jmV7VMDU/s320/Summer+2010+12.jpg" /&gt;First you have a small town.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496745736387525682" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEhdH84FfDI/AAAAAAAAAkU/rUMU7gSwVWI/s320/Summer+11.jpg" /&gt;Then you add some funny cars and guys in hillbilly hats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496745725893517106" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEhdHVyHnzI/AAAAAAAAAkM/N2ND9-GSPww/s320/Summer+2010+14.jpg" /&gt;The NYPD marching band and&lt;br /&gt;every high school marching band for 5 counties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 174px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496745723871562690" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEhdHOQDC8I/AAAAAAAAAkE/6sqA5rb6jL4/s320/Summer+2010+13.jpg" /&gt;Add a drill team of men in their undies with lawn chairs.&lt;br /&gt;Plus every drill team and dance studio in the state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496745744284840242" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEhdIaS88TI/AAAAAAAAAkc/SIu2ijnaW1Y/s320/Summer+2010+10.jpg" /&gt;Top it off with an adorable Tink and you have a small town parade!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-3008304088845251767?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3008304088845251767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3008304088845251767' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3008304088845251767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3008304088845251767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/07/small-town-parade.html' title='Small Town Parade'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEhdGlO3LrI/AAAAAAAAAj8/FX-jmV7VMDU/s72-c/Summer+2010+12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-9038127932965472994</id><published>2010-07-21T10:15:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T10:55:55.042-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer fun!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is what we have been up to this summer so far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcH38BsluI/AAAAAAAAAj0/gROZoDT-nHc/s1600/Summer+2010+16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496370527816423138" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcH38BsluI/AAAAAAAAAj0/gROZoDT-nHc/s320/Summer+2010+16.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Soccer playing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcH3YgvK4I/AAAAAAAAAjs/W4ux9GJsl58/s1600/Summer+2010+15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496370518282939266" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcH3YgvK4I/AAAAAAAAAjs/W4ux9GJsl58/s320/Summer+2010+15.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Daybreak watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcFPXeFQDI/AAAAAAAAAjk/06eIrcdOM6s/s1600/Summer+2010+12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496367631785345074" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcFPXeFQDI/AAAAAAAAAjk/06eIrcdOM6s/s320/Summer+2010+12.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Small town parading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcFPDK4nzI/AAAAAAAAAjc/ZMNB7nMB3rM/s1600/Summer+2010+9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 217px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496367626336116530" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcFPDK4nzI/AAAAAAAAAjc/ZMNB7nMB3rM/s320/Summer+2010+9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Maggie May cuddling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcFO6oI0TI/AAAAAAAAAjU/4bLLqkzpzPA/s1600/Summer+2010+8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 198px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496367624042893618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcFO6oI0TI/AAAAAAAAAjU/4bLLqkzpzPA/s320/Summer+2010+8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bike riding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcB5TR2u-I/AAAAAAAAAjM/PErJQRDPBFk/s1600/Summer+2010+6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 217px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496363954168314850" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcB5TR2u-I/AAAAAAAAAjM/PErJQRDPBFk/s320/Summer+2010+6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Rope jumping.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcB49RrDRI/AAAAAAAAAjE/eH2ZCQJmGxQ/s1600/Summer+2010+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496363948261969170" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcB49RrDRI/AAAAAAAAAjE/eH2ZCQJmGxQ/s320/Summer+2010+5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Front porch swinging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcB4IAq63I/AAAAAAAAAi8/Xzu7dv9jZZg/s1600/Summer+2010+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496363933963578226" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcB4IAq63I/AAAAAAAAAi8/Xzu7dv9jZZg/s320/Summer+2010+4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Playground climbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcB3oXaNdI/AAAAAAAAAi0/KBTVgRzDOOw/s1600/Summer+2010+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 163px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496363925469017554" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcB3oXaNdI/AAAAAAAAAi0/KBTVgRzDOOw/s320/Summer+2010+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Slip 'n Sliding!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcB3YB_tnI/AAAAAAAAAis/M6LKKnl3Gqw/s1600/Summer+2010+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496363921084233330" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcB3YB_tnI/AAAAAAAAAis/M6LKKnl3Gqw/s320/Summer+2010+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been busy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-9038127932965472994?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/9038127932965472994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=9038127932965472994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/9038127932965472994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/9038127932965472994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/07/summer-fun.html' title='Summer fun!!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEcH38BsluI/AAAAAAAAAj0/gROZoDT-nHc/s72-c/Summer+2010+16.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-2940617741992026085</id><published>2010-07-21T09:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T10:14:17.784-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What makes a birthday great??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb-nrskxqI/AAAAAAAAAik/eF0w7elQDUk/s1600/Bday+2010+0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496360352950306466" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb-nrskxqI/AAAAAAAAAik/eF0w7elQDUk/s320/Bday+2010+0.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Gifts in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb-nO3q7QI/AAAAAAAAAic/8MiwHFPZT08/s1600/Bday+2010+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 210px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496360345212218626" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb-nO3q7QI/AAAAAAAAAic/8MiwHFPZT08/s320/Bday+2010+1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A party at the lake with cake and more gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb936Lk-3I/AAAAAAAAAiU/6cWmKLGrrdQ/s1600/Bday+2010+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496359532204718962" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb936Lk-3I/AAAAAAAAAiU/6cWmKLGrrdQ/s320/Bday+2010+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your best friend there with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb93d1RGnI/AAAAAAAAAiM/1An3y3fxNrU/s1600/Bday+2010+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496359524594948722" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb93d1RGnI/AAAAAAAAAiM/1An3y3fxNrU/s320/Bday+2010+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A diving board to jump off of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb93EhyMmI/AAAAAAAAAiE/FdxlG2LfH1U/s1600/Bday+2010+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496359517802345058" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb93EhyMmI/AAAAAAAAAiE/FdxlG2LfH1U/s320/Bday+2010+4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swimming all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb92k0EClI/AAAAAAAAAh8/3C6XhMX08O0/s1600/Bday+2010+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496359509289077330" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb92k0EClI/AAAAAAAAAh8/3C6XhMX08O0/s320/Bday+2010+5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Your first gun.  Pink of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb92GmNqhI/AAAAAAAAAh0/RvDh60IgnaU/s1600/Bday+2010+6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 204px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496359501177924114" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb92GmNqhI/AAAAAAAAAh0/RvDh60IgnaU/s320/Bday+2010+6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Your daddy teaching you how to shoot your gun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's what make a birthday GREAT!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And yes, Tink got a real gun for her birthday.  Hubbs insisted it was time for her to have her own gun. Tink loves it and is thrilled to target practice with her daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-2940617741992026085?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/2940617741992026085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=2940617741992026085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2940617741992026085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2940617741992026085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/07/what-makes-birthday-great.html' title='What makes a birthday great??'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEb-nrskxqI/AAAAAAAAAik/eF0w7elQDUk/s72-c/Bday+2010+0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-2241358807793638145</id><published>2010-07-17T00:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-17T00:01:01.269-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess who's having a birthday??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEBsOyQfFkI/AAAAAAAAAhs/hOgUK9vblh0/s1600/Ainsley.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494510546656892482" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEBsOyQfFkI/AAAAAAAAAhs/hOgUK9vblh0/s320/Ainsley.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Tink and Boomer the 4'th of July.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Yep, it's Tink!  Not the donkey.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can't believe she is 5 already!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I honor of her 5'th birthday I am going to list the 5 things I love most about this girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;1.  Her love of God.  Tink has an amazing understanding and love of God.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;2.  Her kindness.  She can't stand to see someone sad or hurt and all animals have a place in her heart.  She is the sweetest most lovable kid I know.  She needs snuggle time everyday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;3.  Her sense of humor.  This is one funny kid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;4.  Her imagination.  Tink has 2 imaginary friends, Isabella and her sister Bella, they go almost everywhere with us.  Tink has an amazing ability to make up songs, stories and dances on the spot.  Our days are filled with singing and dancing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;5.  Her thirst for knowledge.  Tink is always wanting to learn something new and questions everything.  She loves going to school and is so excited to tell me about the things she has learned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There is so much more that I love about Tink, I am so very proud to be her Mommy!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Happy Birthday Baby!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-2241358807793638145?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/2241358807793638145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=2241358807793638145' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2241358807793638145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2241358807793638145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/07/guess-whos-having-birthday.html' title='Guess who&apos;s having a birthday??'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/TEBsOyQfFkI/AAAAAAAAAhs/hOgUK9vblh0/s72-c/Ainsley.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4655763686972299461</id><published>2010-06-29T14:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T14:57:23.369-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Skunk Stew!</title><content type='html'>This morning I let the dogs out while I made myself a bowl of cereal.  I had taken two bits when I heard the dogs bark.  I went to the door to check on them and what did I see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maggie May covered in mud!  Darn dog!  She just got a bath on Sunday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out to get her and the stench hit me.  Maggie May had been sprayed by a skunk.  Apparently it happened in the front yard by the smell of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 regular baths and a bath in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;tomato&lt;/span&gt; juice later and Maggie wasn't pawing her face and barking anymore.  I locked her in the crate and headed out to work after changing clothes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked in the door of my office my boss asked why I smelled like a skunk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently Maggie rubbed off on me.  I have since rinsed in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;tomato&lt;/span&gt; juice at the office and changed into a different shirt.  I still smell.  Now I smell like skunk and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;tomato&lt;/span&gt; juice.  The making of skunk stew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really looking forward to going home.  I'm sure my entire house and the dog reeks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4655763686972299461?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4655763686972299461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4655763686972299461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4655763686972299461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4655763686972299461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/06/skunk-stew.html' title='Skunk Stew!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8088889152907578977</id><published>2010-06-28T10:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T10:53:02.238-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach news</title><content type='html'>The first beach condo I found didn't work out.  I have since found a new one.  Crisis averted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, last night we were visiting my MIL.  She let it slip that my SIL had invited her to join us on our beach vacation.  WHAT??!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am NOT spending a week with that woman!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Hubbs he needs to fix this situation.  I'm not sure how this is going to be fixed without someone getting mad, but he needs to talk with his sister and uninvite their mom.  If he can't do it I am going to have to insist on separate vacations.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-8088889152907578977?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8088889152907578977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8088889152907578977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8088889152907578977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8088889152907578977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/06/beach-news.html' title='Beach news'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1964935929562707630</id><published>2010-06-22T08:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T08:41:51.788-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise!</title><content type='html'>I was just reading a post over at "The Meanest Mom" that Jana wrote.  Check it out here &lt;a href="http://themeanestmom.blogspot.com/2010/06/if-walls-could-talk.html"&gt;http://themeanestmom.blogspot.com/2010/06/if-walls-could-talk.html&lt;/a&gt;  It made me think about Hubbs and the story of our remodel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before Hubbs and I got married he had his bedroom at his Mom's decorated with black lights and posters of aliens and such that glowed in the dark.  I REFUSED to let him decorate our house with that crap when we got married.  It all sat in a box in our basement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we started remodeling I soon realized he was taking the posters and hanging them over the studs and insulation before he hung the drywall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I asked why he was doing this, he told me that he wanted the posters in the house, but I refused so he was making sure they got hung in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, someone in the future is going to have a big surprise when they tear down that drywall!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1964935929562707630?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1964935929562707630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1964935929562707630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1964935929562707630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1964935929562707630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/06/surprise.html' title='Surprise!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-6196215190703048968</id><published>2010-06-21T09:20:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T09:33:22.672-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Father's Day fun</title><content type='html'>I could not think of a single thing to get Hubbs for Father's Day this year.  One day last week I finally broke down and asked him what he wanted.  A new 3-D deer bow target was the answer.  Ok, I could do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until I got to the sporting goods store.  $180.oo!!  No way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Tink and I went to Target.  I told her she could pick out anything she wanted for Daddy.  I did suggest a new pair of sandals and she picked him out a pair.  Then she saw the toy area and need to look.  When passing the kiddie pool section she had a brilliant idea.  A slip 'n slide!  Daddy needed a slip 'n slide!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, new sandals and a slip 'n slide it was.  Wrapped in baby shower paper!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs loved it all!  Although he is pretty sure the slip 'n slide was really meant for Tink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-6196215190703048968?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/6196215190703048968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=6196215190703048968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6196215190703048968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6196215190703048968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/06/fathers-day-fun.html' title='Father&apos;s Day fun'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4532918483337825373</id><published>2010-06-15T11:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T11:17:05.484-04:00</updated><title type='text'>VBS</title><content type='html'>I LOVED vacation bible school as a kid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week is vacation bible school at our church.  Since I loved it as a kid, I thought I couldn't go wrong with volunteering to be a group leader for Tink's class.  Hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, being there is fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in charge of 21, 4-6 year olds is interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having 1 that cries, 1 that is wild and constantly runs away and 1 that drinks so much red kool-aide that he pukes is not so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am off to do it all again tonight.  And every night this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may be praying for my sanity before this is all over with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4532918483337825373?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4532918483337825373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4532918483337825373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4532918483337825373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4532918483337825373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/06/vbs.html' title='VBS'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1943904775313885081</id><published>2010-06-04T10:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T11:00:40.812-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>So, I found a place at the beach.  It fits every one's criteria for beach housing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 bedroom&lt;br /&gt;between the inlet and 28th st.&lt;br /&gt;available the week of Court's vacation&lt;br /&gt;within walking distance to beach and boardwalk&lt;br /&gt;dogs welcome&lt;br /&gt;within price range&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called the guy who owns it.  I sent deposit.  He will email contract.  All is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was 50 days ago.  50!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no contract.&lt;br /&gt;He won't return my emails or phone calls.&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks ago I did catch him online and sent him an IM.  He claimed to have been in El Salvador for two weeks and would email me a contract ASAP.  Still nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure we have no place at the beach to stay.  AND he has my deposit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now demanding my money back.  And looking for a new place to stay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, why, why do I always take people at their word???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1943904775313885081?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1943904775313885081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1943904775313885081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1943904775313885081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1943904775313885081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/06/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3839613773829095042</id><published>2010-05-21T13:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T13:33:30.548-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach plans</title><content type='html'>Hubbs, Tink and I are going to the beach in August. Hubbs talked to his twin sister and she decided she would like to go with us.  This is going to be fun!  Seriously.  I'm not be sarcastic this time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs' twin is a blast.  She has lived out of town for the last several years and has never gotten to know Tink very well.  I think this will be good for all of us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have already found a condo that will let us bring Maggie May and Bocephus along.  I have no idea why NO ONE will watch them for us.  Oh well.  Some doggie tranquilizers and we are all set for a week of fun at the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am getting excited already!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S-gDkKhfVpI/AAAAAAAAAhc/3iZzdwr-zoU/s1600/Josh,+Chad,+Court.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469625667276461714" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S-gDkKhfVpI/AAAAAAAAAhc/3iZzdwr-zoU/s320/Josh,+Chad,+Court.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Hubbs and his twin on each end with their older brother in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-3839613773829095042?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3839613773829095042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3839613773829095042' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3839613773829095042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3839613773829095042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/05/beach-plans.html' title='Beach plans'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S-gDkKhfVpI/AAAAAAAAAhc/3iZzdwr-zoU/s72-c/Josh,+Chad,+Court.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-2630794798652707924</id><published>2010-05-19T13:32:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T13:23:25.233-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why didn't I figure this out sooner?</title><content type='html'>A couple of week ago at church a question was asked. I have been thinking a lot about it since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When we kneel at the alter to pray we bring all of our "baggage" with us and pray that God will take it and carry it for us. But then, when we get up to walk away we pick the baggage up and carry it back home with us. Why don't we leave it there for God to carry?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am guilty of this. I pray and pray that God will take my baggage and carry it for me. Then I walk away, dragging it all behind me. I prayed right then that God would help me let it all go, help me learn how to let him carry it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling much better these days. I think this is something I should have learned a long time ago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-2630794798652707924?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/2630794798652707924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=2630794798652707924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2630794798652707924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2630794798652707924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/05/why-didnt-i-figure-this-out-sooner.html' title='Why didn&apos;t I figure this out sooner?'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8030911946086065981</id><published>2010-04-30T15:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T15:15:00.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversation with Tink</title><content type='html'>Me:  I think  you need to get a new attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink:  No, I'll just keep the one I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, do I have a hard time keeping a straight face!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-8030911946086065981?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8030911946086065981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8030911946086065981' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8030911946086065981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8030911946086065981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/04/conversation-with-tink.html' title='Conversation with Tink'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-7604954454971840320</id><published>2010-04-29T11:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T11:44:04.167-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Soccer game and a fight on the way.</title><content type='html'>Tink had her first soccer game of the season last night.  It was awful.  The kids on our team acted like they were in a daze.  Tink stood on the field and played with her hair and whined that she was tired and thirsty.  We ended up scoring 2 points and the other team had 10 or 12.  I'm not sure, score is not officially kept at the games. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky for us my nephew was on the other team.  I'm sure you all remember me talking about my brothers boys, the mafia.  They are terribly behaved little turds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the game was over I told my nephew he played a good game.  I then told Tink she made a great stop and a couple of really good take aways during the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got 3 minutes down the road my cell phone rang.  It was my brother wanting to talk to Tink.  Tink refused to talk, she was too tired she said.  My brother responded "That's ok, I was just calling so Chase could rub it in that Tink's team sucks and we kicked their ass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok.  "Well, tell Chase that he did great and Aunt D is proud of him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs could tell I was pissed when I hung up, but I told him I would tell him about it later.  I didn't want to repeat what had been said in front of Tink.  I told Tink my brother called to tell her she played a great game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, why, why would an adult call to say something like that to a 4 year old?!  I hope he feels like the ass that he truly is!  I typically keep my mouth shut for the sake of family peace, but it's not going to take much more for me to blow up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-7604954454971840320?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/7604954454971840320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=7604954454971840320' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7604954454971840320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7604954454971840320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/04/soccer-game-and-fight-on-way.html' title='Soccer game and a fight on the way.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-7071069114656477775</id><published>2010-04-21T11:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T11:53:13.508-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In fact</title><content type='html'>It was the thought of turning another year older that was giving me the sick feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am sitting at my desk at work a year older, no baby on the way, with a sick Tink at home, eating left over birthday cake for lunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is unfair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cake almost makes up for all the rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-7071069114656477775?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/7071069114656477775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=7071069114656477775' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7071069114656477775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7071069114656477775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/04/in-fact.html' title='In fact'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3027528312304153247</id><published>2010-04-20T00:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T00:01:00.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2 options...</title><content type='html'>Tink to Hubbs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Dad, you can either answer my mom or get a busted ass.  You choose one.  Did you pick the busted ass??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really?  Did that just come out of her mouth?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-3027528312304153247?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3027528312304153247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3027528312304153247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3027528312304153247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3027528312304153247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/04/2-options.html' title='2 options...'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8701831919990381059</id><published>2010-04-19T13:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T13:58:35.702-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe, just maybe...</title><content type='html'>I have had this half hungry, half nauseous feeling all day today. This is the same early preggo feeling I had with Tink. I'm sure it's just wishful thinking. I am going to keep my fingers crossed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again maybe it's just the thought of turning another year older tomorrow that is making me feel a little sickish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-8701831919990381059?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8701831919990381059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8701831919990381059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8701831919990381059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8701831919990381059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/04/maybe-just-maybe.html' title='Maybe, just maybe...'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-7519512422482570450</id><published>2010-04-14T12:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T12:05:59.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'>4/13/2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is what my day looked like.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xm9KnZRpI/AAAAAAAAAhM/sJvHBgutmYc/s1600/4-13-10+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 154px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460024061752592018" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xm9KnZRpI/AAAAAAAAAhM/sJvHBgutmYc/s320/4-13-10+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The view from my front porch when I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xm8t31E3I/AAAAAAAAAhE/12jW_uhQsj4/s1600/Dance+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460024054036894578" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xm8t31E3I/AAAAAAAAAhE/12jW_uhQsj4/s320/Dance+1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The view beside me at dance class.  Baby A, isn't she beautiful?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xm8ZCPd5I/AAAAAAAAAg8/B8eckGWNwGM/s1600/Dance+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 236px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460024048443422610" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xm8ZCPd5I/AAAAAAAAAg8/B8eckGWNwGM/s320/Dance+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The view in front of me during dance.  Silly, silly Tink!  I don't thing that's how the dance is supposed to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xm8MiN50I/AAAAAAAAAg0/l9VY1CQw5-c/s1600/Dance+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460024045087876930" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xm8MiN50I/AAAAAAAAAg0/l9VY1CQw5-c/s320/Dance+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink... pay attention.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmmm, let's see how soccer goes tonight.&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-7519512422482570450?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/7519512422482570450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=7519512422482570450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7519512422482570450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7519512422482570450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/04/4132010.html' title='4/13/2010'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xm9KnZRpI/AAAAAAAAAhM/sJvHBgutmYc/s72-c/4-13-10+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-480801643325473487</id><published>2010-04-14T11:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T11:59:48.175-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>This is what Easter looked like at our house.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xl3QYRE3I/AAAAAAAAAgs/jI96z4nB4S8/s1600/Easter+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460022860708909938" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xl3QYRE3I/AAAAAAAAAgs/jI96z4nB4S8/s320/Easter+4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xl3CcKG_I/AAAAAAAAAgk/yGaYSKT79_0/s1600/Easter+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 155px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460022856967134194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xl3CcKG_I/AAAAAAAAAgk/yGaYSKT79_0/s320/Easter+1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xl2e3ylxI/AAAAAAAAAgc/yMo3JRUBqL0/s1600/Easter+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460022847419356946" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xl2e3ylxI/AAAAAAAAAgc/yMo3JRUBqL0/s320/Easter+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xl14PLyYI/AAAAAAAAAgU/_fh0N2vIk6w/s1600/Easter+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460022837048494466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xl14PLyYI/AAAAAAAAAgU/_fh0N2vIk6w/s320/Easter+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We hunted eggs for 2 days.  We are still finding candy filled eggs in the yard.  Tink had tons of fun playing with all her cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-480801643325473487?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/480801643325473487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=480801643325473487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/480801643325473487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/480801643325473487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/04/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/S8Xl3QYRE3I/AAAAAAAAAgs/jI96z4nB4S8/s72-c/Easter+4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-6998972294487744938</id><published>2010-03-30T12:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T12:58:21.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back</title><content type='html'>I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the loooong absence.  I now have highspeed internet again and will hopefully be posting again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who were wondering I did survive all the craziness that was going on in my life in the last few posts.  I don't htink things ever really did settle down, I just tend to get overwhelmed when things change and then I just get used to a new kind of crazy until the next change comes along. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The update on us:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still at my job with the paving company and I am loving it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink is as sweet and sassy as ever, she just started spring soccer yesterday.  She also has a dance concert coming up the first week of May, this should be interesting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink and I have found a new church.  We have been attending for about 6 weeks now.  The Moore family has been going with us.  We are all really enjoying it.  Except for JP, I can't get him to go with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JP is busy building deer feeders so he can get "The Big One" next deer season. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bocephus and Maggie May are a wild as ever, they are still turning the living room into doggie wrestle mania every evening.  Fun stuff!  It sounds like a major dog fight when they do this.  The good part about it?  It scares my nephews.  Now they don't want to come over because my dogs fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no baby.  Still working on that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will have a real post soon.  Ya know, one with pics and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what's going on with you?  I promise I will get caught up on all your blogs asap!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-6998972294487744938?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/6998972294487744938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=6998972294487744938' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6998972294487744938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6998972294487744938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4896122402116677582</id><published>2009-12-23T12:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T13:02:10.441-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On The Fourth Day Of Christmas...</title><content type='html'>Tink has been singing Christmas carols for a few weeks now.  I'm not sure who has been teaching her these particular versions, but when I try to correct her she is adamant that she is singing them correctly.  They are being MURDERED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter which day you are on on the 12 Days of Christmas, you only get the gifts that are on the fourth day.  "4 Calling Birds, 3 French Hens, 2 Turtle Doves and a Vulture in a Bare Treeeeee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to know the names of Santa's reindeer?  Just ask Tink.  "Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donald and Fix-it."  "And Rudolph!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least she's keeping me entertained.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4896122402116677582?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4896122402116677582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4896122402116677582' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4896122402116677582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4896122402116677582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/12/on-fourth-day-of-christmas.html' title='On The Fourth Day Of Christmas...'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4837803007585306000</id><published>2009-12-18T08:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T08:37:49.251-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This too shall pass.</title><content type='html'>I am hoping the craziness in my life calms down in the new year!  In the last week alone I have had a power outage at work that killed my computer, a shopping trip that ended in an ER visit, a ticket for dead registration on my car, a kid who is going to drive me nuts before Christmas gets here, 10 calls from my mother-in-law about gifts for Tink and a dog who has peed on my Christmas tree.  Twice.  Every time I say it couldn't get any worse, it does.  Surely this has to end at some point.  Right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4837803007585306000?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4837803007585306000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4837803007585306000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4837803007585306000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4837803007585306000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/12/this-too-shall-pass.html' title='This too shall pass.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4752165248765682982</id><published>2009-11-05T15:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T15:34:48.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This Crazy Life Of Mine</title><content type='html'>I have been gone for a while and thought I would give everyone an update on this crazy life of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the job front - I had vacation days to burn before the end of the year. I decided I should use them before my boss found my replacement. I talked to the office manager and the boss and decided I would use them in Oct. While I was off I got a call telling me the board of education was giving tests for substitute secretary positions, so I went and took the test. My boss found out I took the board of ed test, apparently someone there recognized me from the insurance office and told him I was there. He called and fired me during my vacation. The other employees there have been forbade to talk to me. I had to wait three days to get a call back from his wife to even find out why I had been fired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky for me the same day I got fired I got a call from a lady I had insured.  She owns a trucking and paving company and the position she had mentioned to me before became available sooner than she thought it would.  I started working there the day after I got fired from the insurance office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still getting used to my new job and dial up connection.   So far I am loving my new job!  Dial up connection?  Not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the baby front - Nothing.  I was two weeks late and was SURE I was preggo.  Then mother nature came to visit.  Maybe in November.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the home front - My next door neighbor (directly next door to me) was murdered in his home a week and a half ago.  I heard a car that night and woke Hubbs up to see who it was, he got up and looked and told me it was nothing to worry about, just someone leaving the neighbor's house.  It was the killers.  I won't go into the gory details here, let's just say it was awful and I am now afraid to stay at home without Hubbs until the killers are caught.  This neighbor will be remembered and missed by everyone in my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the Tink front - Tink is home with the swine flu this week.  Poor baby got sick on Sunday.  Her temperature soon spiked up to 104.3 and stayed between 101 and 104 for 24 hours.  She tested positive for H1N1 on Monday and has been on Tamiflu and home confinement since.  Luckily she is feeling better already.  I am hoping the worst is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that about covers it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4752165248765682982?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4752165248765682982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4752165248765682982' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4752165248765682982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4752165248765682982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-crazy-life-of-mine.html' title='This Crazy Life Of Mine'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4259705277327824287</id><published>2009-10-12T11:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T11:41:43.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The craziness inside my head.</title><content type='html'>The ovulation test kits, baby names web sites, reading what to expect when you are expecting, worrying about where the baby will sleep, will it have it's own room or will it share with Tink, will I have to kick the dogs out of their room and turn it into a nursery, what will I do with the dog crates, are we preggo now, will it be a boy or girl, why did I get rid of all our baby things, maybe this was a bad decision, maybe we should stick with the one child only rule, what if we are already preggo? &lt;br /&gt;This has over taken my life. &lt;br /&gt;Only in private, when no one is watching. &lt;br /&gt;I don't want people to think I am crazy.&lt;br /&gt;Why do I do these things?   &lt;br /&gt;Simply deciding that we want another baby has done this to me. &lt;br /&gt;I can't stop. &lt;br /&gt;I know it will only get worse.&lt;br /&gt;Why, why, why do I obsess like this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4259705277327824287?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4259705277327824287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4259705277327824287' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4259705277327824287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4259705277327824287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/10/craziness-inside-my-head.html' title='The craziness inside my head.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-4274383260296458382</id><published>2009-10-09T11:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T11:25:05.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'>possible job news!</title><content type='html'>The house almost caught fire last night.  It was Hubb's lack of supervision that allowed this to happen.  It wasn't even Tink who needed the supervision, it was Maggie May.  Luckliy I caught it before anything caught fire, but Hubbs is still in the dog house over this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a call today at work from one of my customers.  She and I were talking a week or so ago about the recent events here at my office.  Not that I have told all my clients about the situation, but after 6 years of being her insurance agent and talking to her on a regular basis regarding her business insurance, we have become friends.  Today she called to say she is going to be looking for someone to run her office and wondered if I would be interested.  Yes, yes I am.  So, I gave her my salary requirements and she is going to discuss this with her husband and get back to me.  My fingers are crossed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No baby news yet.  We are trying ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-4274383260296458382?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/4274383260296458382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=4274383260296458382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4274383260296458382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/4274383260296458382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/10/possible-job-news.html' title='possible job news!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-5545439640872519057</id><published>2009-10-08T13:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T13:32:35.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I FINALLY found the camera cord!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is Tink on the first day of school.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390279098637455330" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4eSAJ_j-I/AAAAAAAAAfM/lQdSW9GuHco/s320/S7301290.JPG" /&gt;Tink with Livy Bug at school.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390279113266342802" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4eS2pyq5I/AAAAAAAAAfU/PX7DRV3ceEw/s320/S7301292.JPG" /&gt;The second day of school.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390279120076392162" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4eTQBbxuI/AAAAAAAAAfc/XFaPjOTIf6c/s320/S7301305.JPG" /&gt;Guess who can write their own name?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is Tink signing in at school.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4eUKyNUTI/AAAAAAAAAfs/0uZWox7Tgsk/s1600-h/school+10-6-09+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390279135850221874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4eUKyNUTI/AAAAAAAAAfs/0uZWox7Tgsk/s320/school+10-6-09+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And making a craft during class.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4eT1WwukI/AAAAAAAAAfk/5fjeq-eawpQ/s1600-h/school+10-6-09+7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390279130097957442" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4eT1WwukI/AAAAAAAAAfk/5fjeq-eawpQ/s320/school+10-6-09+7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This kid LOVES soccer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390278365422352114" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4dnUt49vI/AAAAAAAAAe0/ULwPjmEKOB8/s320/S7301352.JPG" /&gt;Here is Tink with Boo and baby A.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4dokeK_JI/AAAAAAAAAfE/jlM7ZNPaBM8/s1600-h/S7301327.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390278386831260818" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4dokeK_JI/AAAAAAAAAfE/jlM7ZNPaBM8/s320/S7301327.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here comes Tink and Boo off the field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4dnwCGIWI/AAAAAAAAAe8/h-FqPee1mdc/s1600-h/S7301325.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390278372754858338" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4dnwCGIWI/AAAAAAAAAe8/h-FqPee1mdc/s320/S7301325.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-5545439640872519057?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/5545439640872519057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=5545439640872519057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5545439640872519057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/5545439640872519057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-finally-found-camera-cord.html' title='I FINALLY found the camera cord!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/Ss4eSAJ_j-I/AAAAAAAAAfM/lQdSW9GuHco/s72-c/S7301290.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1166955655726043358</id><published>2009-10-08T09:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T09:21:32.930-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The kid said what??</title><content type='html'>I am playing along with Cammie today over here &lt;a href="http://houseofnosleep.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://houseofnosleep.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;   Let's see. I ALWAYS have a ton of stuff that I plan to write for these posts, but don't write them down and later can't remember them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, you have a big, red zit right there on your chin." Yeah, thanks Tink I had totally forgotten about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, the outfit you wore to Hayley's party the other day looked really beautiful." Awww. I guess that makes up for the zit reminder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My dog, Bo, is part lab and part sherman hepard." Almost right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, where are my triblets?" Huh? "You know, my three brown stuffed newborn puppies that look alike." Ah, triplets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: So Tink, do you think you would like Mommy and Daddy to have you a little brother or sister?&lt;br /&gt;Tink: No!!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Why not, I though you wanted a brother or sisiter.&lt;br /&gt;Tink: Because, when I asked for one before you said no, so now I say NO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trying on clothes the other day. Tink was watching.&lt;br /&gt;Tink: Mom, what size are those pants?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Small&lt;br /&gt;Tink: Do they fit you?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Not really well.&lt;br /&gt;Tink: What size do you wear?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Medium.&lt;br /&gt;Tink: Do you mean a really big medium?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Um, yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1166955655726043358?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1166955655726043358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1166955655726043358' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1166955655726043358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1166955655726043358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/09/kid-said-what.html' title='The kid said what??'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3466137561319066385</id><published>2009-10-06T11:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T11:13:09.298-04:00</updated><title type='text'>We are going for it.</title><content type='html'>I won't go into the details.  No one wants to know about that, but we are now officially trying for baby number 2.  It took 3 years for us to get prego with Tink, so this may take a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You, my bloggy friends are the only people who know about this decision.  That makes you all pretty special.  I'll be sure to tell you all first if (I mean when) we are preggo.  Well, after Hubbs and Tink that is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-3466137561319066385?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3466137561319066385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3466137561319066385' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3466137561319066385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3466137561319066385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-are-going-for-it.html' title='We are going for it.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1248371764443003013</id><published>2009-10-05T10:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T10:34:19.601-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Same old crap and something new.</title><content type='html'>I'm still here.  Same old job.  Still looking for something new. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While talking to Hubbs last night we figured out we have both been rethinking our "one child only" policy.  Fine time to rethink this policy.  I've just sold or given away the last of the baby items.  We still have the play yard and the stroller.  Guess that's better than nothing.  Now we just need to decide if we are really going to try of another one or not.  My mind keeps saying no, but me heart is saying yes.  What to do?  What to do!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1248371764443003013?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1248371764443003013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1248371764443003013' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1248371764443003013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1248371764443003013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/10/same-old-crap-and-something-new.html' title='Same old crap and something new.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1319554028855057990</id><published>2009-10-01T12:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T12:36:03.436-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Still here.</title><content type='html'>As for now I am still at my old office.  I have not yet been replaced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been sending out resumes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sick every morning when I have to get up to come here.   I feel hurt and betrayed by my office manager and my boss.  They can't seem to figure out why I am not talkative and seem upset.  Hmmm.  Maybe because you are replacing me??!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have started to clean out my desk and have taken down my one of a kind artwork (all made by Tink.)  I think this made people nervous around here.  The boss's wife called me after work to see if I was mad and to see if we could figure out an alternative solution for Tink so I could work full time.  "No, sorry.  Tink is not going to daycare.  I am not taking her out of dance and soccer.  You all agreed to my hour switch and I am sticking to it.  If you feel like you need to find my replacement go ahead.  I can start looking for a new job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard today that they are now looking for a high school student who can come in the afternoons and just answer the phones when I am not here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am pretty sure they thought that if they dropped the replacement news on me I would say I would work full time and now that I have stood up and refused to do that they are rethinking the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irregardless of what happens here I am still looking for something else.  There has to be something better out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1319554028855057990?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1319554028855057990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1319554028855057990' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1319554028855057990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1319554028855057990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/10/still-here.html' title='Still here.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-7134290342215454114</id><published>2009-09-28T10:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T11:49:43.092-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of options.</title><content type='html'>Well. I just got some shocking news. I am being replaced at my office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you why I am shocked.&lt;br /&gt;For 3 1/2 years I have been working Mon-Fri 10-5. This allowed me extra time with Tink in the mornings. Over the summer I talked to my boss and my office manager and discussed changing my hours to 8-2 Mon-Thurs and 8-5 on Fri once Tink started school. I was told this would be great. They said they are busier in the mornings than the late afternoon and this would be the perfect solution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School started, I told my Mom I didn't need her to sit for Tink any day other than Fri and she made other plans for her time. I changed my hours and enrolled Tink in soccer and dance class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am told the new hours aren't working out for my office. They are so busy that they can't manage without someone in the afternoons. If I can't make other plans for Tink in the afternoons and work all day every day I am going to be replaced with someone who can work full time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I have no other options for Tink and I am looking for a new JOB.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-7134290342215454114?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/7134290342215454114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=7134290342215454114' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7134290342215454114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/7134290342215454114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/09/well.html' title='Out of options.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-6603343107856546163</id><published>2009-09-21T11:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T12:06:31.221-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not me Monday!</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I've played along with Mckmama's Not Me Monday.  I think maybe today I need a little free therapy.  Check out the others &lt;a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net/"&gt;http://www.mycharmingkids.net/&lt;/a&gt; play along!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not take down and sell Tink's baby bed/toddler bed at a consignment sale this past weekend without having a new bed for her to sleep in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not put up Tink's play yard, that she has outgrown, and make her sleep in it last night so I could get some sleep without her attached to my neck since she still does not have a new bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not call Hubbs from the mall on Sat and threaten to divorce him if he didn't show up within 25 minutes to pick Tink and I up to rescue us from my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not tell my mom that if my nephews play soccer next year I will not let Tink be on the same team with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not have to pick Tink up at school last week after she puked all over herself, the hallway and Nie her teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not have to lay across Tink and have three nurses help hold her down so blood could be drawn at the dr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because Hubbs insisted he did not want a birthday gift I did not forget to buy his sister something.  They are twins for crying out loud!  How could I forget that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope, not me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-6603343107856546163?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/6603343107856546163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=6603343107856546163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6603343107856546163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/6603343107856546163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/09/not-me-monday.html' title='Not me Monday!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3723307137894725085</id><published>2009-09-21T10:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T11:35:00.421-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My crappy weekend.</title><content type='html'>Well.  I have been in the crappiest mood this weekend.  I am sure it is everyone else who is making me cranky.  Hubbs says it's just me being crabby.  I think I should just boycott everyone who irritates me and then I won't have to worry about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should start with my mom.  Don't get me wrong, I LOVE this woman!  She also drives me bat shit CRAZY!!  She has a great knack for stating the obvious and treating me like I'm 2.  She's also getting sneaky in her old age.  Like this Sat, she invited Tink and I to go to a craft show and then to the mall with her.  When we are half way to the craft show she informed me my SIL and my nephews "the mafia" would be joining us.  At that point I was trapped in the vehicle with her and couldn't do anything but smile even though I was less than thrilled.  Luckily, Hubbs, Tink and I had a birthday party to go to and Hubbs met us at the mall and rescued us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next in line for disowning are my brother, SIL and "the mafia" aka my nephews. &lt;br /&gt;The mafia are kinda cute at first glance.  Then you hear the high pitched whining voices, the screaming and crying, the hitting, kicking and general disregard for authority figures and you want to smack them.  &lt;br /&gt;The last time we had a family get together at a restaurant (now referred to as the "Night of Hell") these two were animals!  They ran around the restaurant like idiots, hid under tables, one fell onto a chair and blacked his eye, screamed like wild monkeys, refused to eat, threw food and then crawled under our table stabbing various family members in the foot with a plastic knife.  All the while my brother and SIL are sitting there smiling like nothing is going on.  Get a grip people!  Your kids are going to end up in reform school!&lt;br /&gt;At the craft show my oldest nephew made Tink cry when he told her his dad was going to shoot our dogs.  (He apparently hates our dogs because Bo barks at my nephews when they chase Tink and Maggie May takes their toys when they lay them down in the yard.)  Stay home, our dogs won't bother you then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubbs entire family is getting disowned while I'm at it.  Except for Racheal, my newest SIL, she's a sweetie.  The rest are CRAZY!  The adults are rude and like to talk about people behind their backs and they only call when they want something.  The kids are all smart mouths.  Hanging out with them is FUN stuff! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it is me.  Maybe it's the pms.  Nah.  It's them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-3723307137894725085?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3723307137894725085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3723307137894725085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3723307137894725085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3723307137894725085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-crappy-weekend.html' title='My crappy weekend.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1410783812114162894</id><published>2009-09-11T13:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T14:14:47.654-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First day of school and first soccer game.</title><content type='html'>You all guessed correctly!  The second story was true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink was so excited to go to school. I was relieved by the fact that I am doing my job right. I have given my baby the coping skills and the confidence to handle a new situation with excitement. I was also a bit heart broken by the way she waved me away with a "give me five, up high, down low, too slow!" a smooch on the cheek and a "see you after school!" I was expecting at least a little bit of shyness or not wanting to leave me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a bit nervous all day. I was soooo tempted to write Nie an email, text her or call her cell just to check up on Tink. I also knew she would not have time to check any of these until after school had let out, so they were pointless. (For those of you who know me, you will be proud to know that I resisted the urge to check up on Tink.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at the school 15 minutes before dismissal. When I pulled up I saw Tink's class returning to the school from the playground. Nie waved to me and a few other parents and invited us to follow them into the school. Tink was not amused. When I got close enough she hissed "What are you doing here so early?" then promptly walked away from me into her classroom and began playing with the other kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I practically had to drag Tink out of the school and then carried her to the car, she was "just too tired to walk." Poor thing hadn't napped at all and had barely eaten any lunch. She was asleep before we were off the street the school is on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A two hour nap and dinner and Tink was a totally different kid. I learned all about her fun day and her new friends. Then it was off to her first soccer game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The soccer game went great! Tink is not aggressive on the field during practice. Her coach has been trying to change this. It finally clicked during the game. Tink got in there and took the ball and ran with it. She even made a goal!!! You should have seen the excitement on her face! Then her coach pointed to the goal and told her next time to take the ball to her teams goal. Poor kid made scored in the wrong goal. That's ok, they don't keep score anyway. I was still proud of her. Tink really enjoyed playing and can't wait for the next game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have pics from school and the game, but once again have misplaced my camera cord. Go figure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1410783812114162894?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1410783812114162894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1410783812114162894' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1410783812114162894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1410783812114162894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/09/first-day-of-school-and-first-soccer.html' title='First day of school and first soccer game.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-2908118228914286980</id><published>2009-09-09T10:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T11:17:21.295-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First day of preschool</title><content type='html'>Today is Tink's first day of preschool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are two stories about the drop off.  You pick which one is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Story 1:&lt;br /&gt;Tink visited the dr yesterday and had four immunizations.  The shots made her arm sore, but she was fine this morning.  I show up at the school with Tink who clung to my leg.  Anyone who talked to Tink was met with a mean glare and then she hid behind me.  The Boo Hoo breakfast was a real boo hoo fest and Tink had to be led away by our friend Nie who reassured me everything would be fine.  I was a sobbing mess by the time I got to my car.  I have been miserable all morning wondering if she is still crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Story 2:&lt;br /&gt;Tink visited the dr yesterday and had four immunizations.  The shots caused her to run a fever and I have been keeping her dosed with ibuprofen.  This morning she was miserable with a fever.  The meds took about 45 minutes to kick in.  This was 45 minutes that Tink should have been getting dressed and eating breakfast.  Instead she was laying on the couch and crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the fever went down she got motivated and helped me pack her lunch and got dressed.  Breakfast was eaten in the car on the way to school, between songs.  You can't eat when cool songs like "I'm a Nut" and "Wallyatcha" are playing, you MUST sing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Boo Hoo breakfast was held in the library this morning.  All the preschool parents and students attended.  When we walked in the door Tink was met by Nie and Livy Bug.  Livy Bug led Tink away to talk to a table of girls from their soccer team.  I sat and ate a donut while Tink bounced up and down with excitement.  As classmates passed us I read their name tags and told Tink who they were.  Tink told me "I just know I am going to make lots of friends today!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Nie announced it was about time for the kids to go to their classroom and for the parents to leave a few kids started to cry.  Tink gathered her backpack and lunch box and headed for the teacher without even saying good bye.  I stopped her and asked her if I got a kiss.  She kissed me and gave me a high five then said "love ya, see you after school" and left with the teacher's aide.  She looked back once to wave as they walked down the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a bit shocked by the entire process.  I had been expecting major tears, from both of us.  I'm still not sure how I feel about the morning.  On one hand I am so proud of the independent, brave, eager to learn little girl I am raising.  On the other hand I am sad that my baby is growing up and doesn't need her mommy with her.  I guess this is the beginning of the letting go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, which one really happened?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-2908118228914286980?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/2908118228914286980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=2908118228914286980' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2908118228914286980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2908118228914286980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/09/first-day-of-preschool.html' title='First day of preschool'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-139554124347382346</id><published>2009-09-03T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T13:17:31.748-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The kids said what??</title><content type='html'>I am joining up with Cammie to see what the kids are saying this week. Check out the others here &lt;a href="http://houseofnosleep.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://houseofnosleep.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink and I were sitting on the front porch the other evening watching Maggie May run around the yard. Maggie had a tennis ball and wasn't about to give it up. She brought the ball on the porch and jumped into a chair to chew on it for a while. When Tink took a step toward Maggie's chair Maggie jumped off tipping the chair over in her escape. Tink looked at me with huge eyes and very seriously said "She just knocked the whole damn chair over!" Very calmly I asked Tink what she had said. "I'm just really sorry for saying the bad word, but good luck with that." Alrighty then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day we arrived at my company retreat Tink was already worn out by the time we arrived at the cabins. After unloading the car, a quick lunch and short fishing trip it was nap time. I took Tink to our cabin and we laid down for a nap. I laid on the bed reading and Tink was having a bit of trouble falling asleep. After the ten millionth "I can't go to sleep" to which I replied "If you would lay still and quit talking you would fall right to sleep" Tink rolled over and informed me "You are very exasperating!" Really!? Where does she learn this stuff? I had to hide my face behind the book. About ten seconds later she was sound asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the same trip, my boss's cabin next door to ours had a huge playroom set up with a wooden kid sized kitchen. It really was an adorable room complete with sink, stove, table and chairs, cupboards, rocking horse and doll carriage. They were all antiques, but were there to be played with. Tink was the only girl on this trip and made good use of the toys. Late the first evening on our way through the playroom to the camp fire out back Tink commented about the room "Isn't it so nice that Gregg (my boss) made this room just for me." I couldn't tell her otherwise, so I just agreed with her. When we got outside Gregg was smiling, he had heard the entire conversation through the open windows of the playroom. The room Gregg made just for Tink has been the topic of conversation at our house alot lately. Gregg is one of Tinks best friends now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Of course we are always flooded with lots of cute words like "forout" instead of without, "not today, but the day before that" instead of yesterday, "bequeen" instead of between and my new favorite "hulau" instead of luau. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I finally figured out why Tink says forout. Hubbs and I were talking the other night and he used the word forout. It totally cracked me up. He was not so amused by my laughing.&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/6288692919241397043-139554124347382346?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/139554124347382346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=139554124347382346' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/139554124347382346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/139554124347382346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/09/kids-said-what.html' title='The kids said what??'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-9141316145017804497</id><published>2009-09-01T12:43:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T12:34:44.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>school</title><content type='html'>Preschool starts in 7 days. I am not looking forward to this. In 7 days my baby will be going to school, she won't be a baby anymore! I am going to be a mess that day. And many more days to follow I am sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink is very shy around people she doesn't know. I explained this to her teacher the night of orientation at her school. The teacher, Mrs Peters, didn't seem to care. She said hello to Tink then proceeded to give me a 15 minute lecture of how great her college age daughter is. After hearing all about the daughter I got to see 50 photos of her in her cheerleader uniform. Yes very nice, but I have questions about the classroom and Tink's care while she is there. Mrs. Peters told me a bit about the classroom and the way she runs things there. My questions were not answered, she assured me she would address them at our home visit the following week. The home visit was not much better. Mrs. Peters wasn't any friendlier and I did not like the answers I got to my questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called my dear friend Nie, Livy Bug's mom, who is a preschool teacher at a different school. I told her about Mrs. Peters and the rules the classroom are ran by. These rules do not meet the county guidelines and seem to be made up as the teacher sees fit. I was not comfortable with the situation, neither was my friend Nie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After talking to school higher-ups, Nie was able to pull a few strings and have Tink transferred across town to be in her classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink and I stopped by the school on Monday to see Nie and the classroom. The classroom is adorable. There are murals on the walls and little stations set up for different types of play. The sand table is set up to look like a luau with a grass covered umbrella above it. The aid, Mrs Book was there and was very friendly. Tink enjoyed exploring the classroom and saw the job chart on the wall which shows what the students "jobs" are going to be for the week. Tink is excited to be the snack helper the first week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home Tink and I were talking about our favorite parts of the classroom. Tink loved the fish tank and the kitchen area. I liked the science table where experiments will be conducted. I told Tink I was a bit jealous of all the fun she was going to have this year and suggested maybe I could go to preschool too. A week ago this was Tinks ideal solution, go to preschool AND have Mama with her all day. Not now. "This is just the way it's going to have to be mama. I am going to school and you are going to work, when I am done you can come back and pick me up. That's just the way it is." So I guess I'm not the only one who was helped by the school switch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like this was the right decision. Thank God! I knew Nie's classroom was a better fit for us and Tink's new found confidence is proving that to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-9141316145017804497?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/9141316145017804497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=9141316145017804497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/9141316145017804497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/9141316145017804497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/09/school.html' title='school'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3755201719549957094</id><published>2009-08-28T13:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T14:43:22.858-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Company retreat.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This past weekend my family and I joined my boss, my coworkers and their families for a weekend retreat in Ohio. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was a bit sceptical of the plan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Their would be twelve people on this adventure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We would all get up early Saturday, drive two hours to Red Hill Farm Cabins, spend the day and night, then come home Sunday afternoon.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I spend my work week with these people, not that they aren't great, but I wasn't so sure I wanted to spend my weekend with them too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The drive there was mostly interstate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tink was asking if we were there yet before we got 15 minutes down the road.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I put a movie in for her and handed her the DS, she didn't make another peep the entire drive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375070876261579666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgWe84ee5I/AAAAAAAAAeU/Q4p4OshFjEQ/s320/Ohio+8-09+2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When we pulled in the drive way of the cabins we were greeted by my boss his wife and three boys.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They helped us unload our car and showed us to the cabin we would be sharing with a coworker.  &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375069467001442082" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgVM6-rTyI/AAAAAAAAAds/wrMJ76ANqdM/s320/Ohio+8-09+11.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375069475208882210" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgVNZje6CI/AAAAAAAAAd0/FGJE5tygxvo/s320/Ohio+8-09+12.JPG" /&gt;Hubbs, Tink and I would be sharing a room.  Hubbs decided this would be his bed.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375070857686379442" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgWd3rza7I/AAAAAAAAAeE/_v2KggYXHCw/s320/Ohio+8-09+14.JPG" /&gt;Tink and I would sleep here, on the other side of the room.  No fighting Hubbs for covers all night?  Not such a bad idea.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375069481704662706" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgVNxwMprI/AAAAAAAAAd8/Suzn314RqYY/s320/Ohio+8-09+13.JPG" /&gt;Tink was more excited about the stuffed animals on the window seats than anything else.  Until she found a playroom set up with antique, wooden kitchen appliances and furniture and baby carriages to play with.  She was in heaven and still thinks my boss built the room just for her.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375070868410487506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgWefooUtI/AAAAAAAAAeM/vaOsPlNJ9ZE/s320/Ohio+8-09+15.JPG" /&gt;After settling in we headed off to fish for a bit.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375070884847147010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgWfc3b2AI/AAAAAAAAAec/wp3DVerFXwg/s320/Ohio+8-09+1.JPG" /&gt;This is where Hubbs spent most of his time.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375071527103731234" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgXE1dVliI/AAAAAAAAAek/2UZ7U5g7yFA/s320/Ohio+8-09+7.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375071540648049794" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgXFn6jfII/AAAAAAAAAes/ruaoyVQq_ZE/s320/Ohio+8-09+8.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There was also badminton, cornhole,  soccer, bonfire building, lots of great food, even better desserts, alcohol, deer spotting and many laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375069457530287714" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgVMXsk9mI/AAAAAAAAAdk/HSdrs4SoF8c/s320/Ohio+8-09+10.JPG" /&gt;I have to say, it was a much better weekend than I expected.  There is already talk of another retreat, maybe one that lasts 2 nights next time.&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;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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-3755201719549957094?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3755201719549957094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3755201719549957094' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3755201719549957094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3755201719549957094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/company-retreat.html' title='Company retreat.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpgWe84ee5I/AAAAAAAAAeU/Q4p4OshFjEQ/s72-c/Ohio+8-09+2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-475183834253968229</id><published>2009-08-26T15:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T12:38:13.451-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who was I making a quilt for?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Why for baby A of course! Our dear friends the Moores had this little darling just last week.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374357596620842530" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWNwnKB5iI/AAAAAAAAAdM/AdftKH8cez8/s320/Adreona+8-16-09+1.JPG" /&gt; Tink loves to visit and hold her. So do I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374357605078820466" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWNxGqkZnI/AAAAAAAAAdU/Z7_TMF9es8U/s320/Adreona+8-16-09+2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374357617837863042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWNx2Mj8II/AAAAAAAAAdc/AJFbnDGVJ90/s320/Adreona+8-16-09+3.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWNVtvOl0I/AAAAAAAAAdE/5OhZbTNQirI/s1600-h/Adreona%27s+blanket+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374357134531008322" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWNVtvOl0I/AAAAAAAAAdE/5OhZbTNQirI/s320/Adreona%27s+blanket+2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And here is miss A on her new quilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWNU-SRtyI/AAAAAAAAAc8/YhiZyUIOR3U/s1600-h/Adreona%27s+blanket+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374357121793111842" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWNU-SRtyI/AAAAAAAAAc8/YhiZyUIOR3U/s320/Adreona%27s+blanket+1.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She's a sweetie!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-475183834253968229?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/475183834253968229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=475183834253968229' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/475183834253968229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/475183834253968229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/who-was-i-making-quilt-for.html' title='Who was I making a quilt for?'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWNwnKB5iI/AAAAAAAAAdM/AdftKH8cez8/s72-c/Adreona+8-16-09+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-2107582377519561306</id><published>2009-08-26T15:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T15:23:40.194-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My most recent craft project</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWKESgQupI/AAAAAAAAAc0/PjZUSM5A7Lg/s1600-h/Adreona%27s+blanket.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374353536627817106" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWKESgQupI/AAAAAAAAAc0/PjZUSM5A7Lg/s320/Adreona%27s+blanket.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Cut up some flannel and some minky chenille.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And sew it all back together.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And you get:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374353528223989698" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWKDzMof8I/AAAAAAAAAcs/7lSHQPHb-jc/s320/Adreona%27s+blanket+3.JPG" /&gt;A pink and chocolate rag quilt.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374353515129350690" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWKDCaoKiI/AAAAAAAAAck/s_fQFJsPIIc/s320/Adreona%27s+blanket+4.JPG" /&gt;With a solid chocolate back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It looks lumpy because it was thrown over the couch for the pics.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now I need to make one for Tink and maybe some for Christmas gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-2107582377519561306?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/2107582377519561306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=2107582377519561306' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2107582377519561306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2107582377519561306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-most-recent-craft-project.html' title='My most recent craft project'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWKESgQupI/AAAAAAAAAc0/PjZUSM5A7Lg/s72-c/Adreona%27s+blanket.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8217847608441944499</id><published>2009-08-26T14:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T15:08:20.885-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First soccer practice</title><content type='html'>The first day of soccer practice.  Tink was scared for about a minute.  Then Livy Bug and Boo started calling to her from the field and she took off running and found a place in line.  Here she is third from the end in the blue shorts, right between Livy Bug and Boo.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374349264068518818" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWGLl-vo6I/AAAAAAAAAcM/fL1O0QSeJk4/s320/Soccer+day+1++1.JPG" /&gt;I thought they would be the only girls on the team.  I was sooo wrong.  Our team consists of 6 girls and 2 boys, our coach is a girl too.  Girls Rule!! &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374349278770743490" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWGMcwByMI/AAAAAAAAAcU/UZ9joKX2wR4/s320/Soccer+day+1++2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWGM9bFRoI/AAAAAAAAAcc/DAxhAC9kd9E/s1600-h/Soccer+day+1++3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374349287541261954" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWGM9bFRoI/AAAAAAAAAcc/DAxhAC9kd9E/s320/Soccer+day+1++3.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Tink and Boo learning to pass the ball.  Sadly, I missed getting the girls when the  enitre team was doing cartwheels later in practice.  Newest rule in soccer:  No cartwheels on the field. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/6288692919241397043-8217847608441944499?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8217847608441944499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8217847608441944499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8217847608441944499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8217847608441944499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-soccer-practice.html' title='First soccer practice'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpWGLl-vo6I/AAAAAAAAAcM/fL1O0QSeJk4/s72-c/Soccer+day+1++1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1721547135955736475</id><published>2009-08-26T13:59:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T14:35:59.098-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Tink!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My baby girl is growing up.  Tink turned 4.  We celebrated with a "cupcake" party in our front yard.  We invited the entire family and Tink's two closest friends Boo and Livy Bug.  It was a great party!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374335020687616178" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpV5OhQG6LI/AAAAAAAAAbU/e3t0IO-Lgv0/s320/Ains+b-day+2009+2.JPG" /&gt;Can you see cousin Austin sporting the red mohawk in the background?  Love his hair!&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374335029106819666" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpV5PAnZwlI/AAAAAAAAAbc/t3pbh4Uitsg/s320/Ains+b-day+2009+3.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374335041151596034" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpV5PtfGdgI/AAAAAAAAAbk/TRaKls-o0AM/s320/Ains+b-day+2009+4.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374335051640285010" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpV5QUjzJ1I/AAAAAAAAAbs/LQB4LGACh9A/s320/Ains+b-day+2009+5.JPG" /&gt;That's me reading the cards to Tink.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374335949335062770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpV6Eku6aPI/AAAAAAAAAb8/grfEd7xiv4U/s320/Ains+b-day+2009+8.JPG" /&gt;Livy Bug and Boo handed Tink the gifts and took all the paper to the trash.  Gotta love the helpers! &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374335941529725650" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpV6EHp-atI/AAAAAAAAAb0/nJclS6OhZWo/s320/Ains+b-day+2009+6.JPG" /&gt;Tink FINALLY got her own umbrella.  Thanks Nanna Laura, I'm sure someone in our house will be missing an eye before it's all over.  Every time I turn around Tink is making up some kind of dance with the umbrella.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374335960516979410" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpV6FOY46tI/AAAAAAAAAcE/TOHcJSp-u6g/s320/Ains+b-day+2009+9.JPG" /&gt;I wanted a cute pic of Tink with her two best friends.  This is what I got.  Tink ran off laughing as soon as I snapped the pic and refused to take a new one.  Silly girl!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1721547135955736475?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1721547135955736475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1721547135955736475' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1721547135955736475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1721547135955736475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-birthday-tink.html' title='Happy Birthday Tink!'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/SpV5OhQG6LI/AAAAAAAAAbU/e3t0IO-Lgv0/s72-c/Ains+b-day+2009+2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3974663974795363385</id><published>2009-08-20T12:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T12:31:31.364-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No pics today</title><content type='html'>I found my camera and brought it to work so I could post some pics today. I just pulled it out of the case and realized I didn't bring the cord. No downloads today. Tomorrow I will try to bring the camera and the cord. Now I guess I need to actually do some work here and quit stocking, I mean reading, blogs and playing on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;. Those darn &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Yo'ville&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Farmville&lt;/span&gt; apps!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-3974663974795363385?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3974663974795363385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3974663974795363385' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3974663974795363385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3974663974795363385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/no-pics-today.html' title='No pics today'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-2269810084078789653</id><published>2009-08-19T14:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T14:42:52.761-04:00</updated><title type='text'>MIA</title><content type='html'>Sorry I have been gone so much lately. I have been one busy girl! Busy doing what? I'm glad you asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking Tink to soccer practice.&lt;br /&gt;Making a quilt.&lt;br /&gt;Nursing a double inner-ear infection which included vertigo (not fun!)&lt;br /&gt;Visiting my dear friend who just had a darling baby girl.&lt;br /&gt;Cleaning up after a crated doggy with explosive diarrhea (also not fun!)&lt;br /&gt;Getting ready for my weekend work retreat (doubtful this will be fun either.)&lt;br /&gt;Working.&lt;br /&gt;Taking Tink to work with me.&lt;br /&gt;Getting Hubbs out the door on time for jury duty.&lt;br /&gt;Trying to pry details out of Hubbs about trial he is on (he isn't budging!)&lt;br /&gt;Dropping off truck for repairs and picking up rental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that about covers it. I will post pics as soon as I remember where I put my camera. Well not pics of the sick doggy, NO ONE wants to see that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-2269810084078789653?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/2269810084078789653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=2269810084078789653' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2269810084078789653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/2269810084078789653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/sorry-i-have-been-gone-so-much-lately.html' title='MIA'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-9196348974069629489</id><published>2009-08-11T11:58:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T15:37:22.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The kid said what???</title><content type='html'>Here's some of the things I have heard this week. To see what everyone else had to say visit Cammie at &lt;a href="http://houseofnosleep.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://houseofnosleep.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Tink: When I get big like daddy I am gonna use my birthday money and buy a gun. The kind you pull the trigger and it goes booming. I'll have a pink one and a pink 4 wheeler to match.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: What are you going to hunt with your gun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink: Deer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Are you going to kill the deer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink: No, just skunks. I'll only kill skunks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink: Mom, if you decide to have another baby I will name it Lou-o or Chewey or Casey.&lt;br /&gt;(Ummm, ok. Luckily, for now there are no more kiddos in the plans.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;While at the mall the other day. "Mom, if I give you this look will you let me out of the stroller?" ("The look" was her lip sticking out in a pout.) Nope, but it did crack me up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday was FILLED with attitude. My favorite was when I was picking her up after work. Tink was playing her DS and my oldest nephew was just waking up from his nap. They like to sit beside each other and play DS and sometimes just watch the other kid play their game. Tink moved over beside my nephew and asked if he wanted to watch her play. He told her no and started whining about her sitting next to him. Tink refused to move. A few minutes later my nephew decided he wanted to watch after all and he scooted closer to Tink. Tink looked at him and said "Oh, now you want to watch!" then she got up and marched away in a huff. It was hilarious.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I woke up this morning with Tink cuddled up next to me in my bed. When I climbed out of bed she woke up "Do I have soccer practice today?" I told her yes, we are going to the first soccer practice when I get home from work. "Well, I need to get up early to be ready for soccer." She didn't care that it wasn't for 10 hours. I hope she's still that excited when we get there.&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/6288692919241397043-9196348974069629489?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/9196348974069629489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=9196348974069629489' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/9196348974069629489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/9196348974069629489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/kid-said-what_11.html' title='The kid said what???'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-3934798068054142267</id><published>2009-08-06T16:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T17:01:26.185-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My little furry visitor.</title><content type='html'>It came to my attention recently that we were having a visitor during the night at our house.  This little furry, four legged, woodland, disease carrying creature was not welcome at our house.  So, I called up my dad and requested the mouse traps he keeps stored in his garage for just these occasions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I coated the trap with peanut butter and hid them from the dogs to wait.  Two nights later there was a SNAP in the middle of the night.  It woke me and I knew instantly what it was.  He was caught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the most disturbing noise, a rattling, scraping sound.  I jumped up and grabbed the flashlight to go inspect my catch.  I found the little fella in the corner between the wall and the fridge.  He was caught by a foot.  He was slowly dragging the trap behind him, trying to find an escape. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This would not do.  Surely the little guy would soon decide his foot was worth sacrificing and shew his way to freedom.  That's the last thing I needed, a footless disease carrying mouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wake Hubbs up to kill the mouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He simply mumbled something about it would be there in the morning, go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SLEEP?  With this in my house?  Not gonna happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plan B.  I would pull mousy out with the end of my swiffer broom and trap him under a trash can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trap attached and all, that little sucker could run!  Bo was up with me watching the entire ordeal and chased the mouse barking and trying to bite it.  I pushed the dog out of the way and threw the can up side down over the mouse.  Taken care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bo and I headed back to bed then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until we heard the can scooting across the kitchen floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I would scoot him to the corner of the kitchen and put Hubbs work boots on top.  That would keep him still.  So, that's what I did.  With a big note attached that said: LIVE MOUSE, PLEASE GET RID OF ASAP!!!  Hubbs would see this in the morning and deal with it then.  Easy peasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until, Bo went back flipped the can over and chased the mouse through my living room.  He then caught the mouse, with trap still attached and chewed it a couple of times.  I ran yelling at him and he dropped it.  It started running at me, Bo grabbed it again and chewed it a couple more times.  I yelled, he dropped it again and I covered it with the can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the commotion woke Hubbs.  He stumbled in cussing me and the dog, hit the mouse with his work boot and threw it out the back door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never did go to sleep.  I was up all night waiting for the mouse to come back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-3934798068054142267?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/3934798068054142267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=3934798068054142267' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3934798068054142267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/3934798068054142267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-little-furry-visitor.html' title='My little furry visitor.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-8781172629924721054</id><published>2009-08-06T09:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T14:14:15.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kid Said What??</title><content type='html'>Stop over at Cammie's at &lt;a href="http://houseofnosleep.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://houseofnosleep.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; to find out what other's people's kids said this week. Here's what happened at my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink on mine and Hubbs' anniversary. "Momma, today is my anniversorry too. Me and you are twins and we share everything, so it's my anniversorry too." Ummm, ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tink to Daddy. "I got my birth ticket in the mail today, I can finish signing up for soccer now!" Yeah, that would be her birth certificate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we had friends over and I locked the dogs on the front porch while the kids played in the yard. As Tink walked up the front steps Maggie decided she could make her escape by jumping over the baby gate at the top of the steps. As she jumped over Tink was hitting the top step and they collided. Tink started to fall backwards down the 7 steps and I caught her by the arm. The entire incident scared the crap out of me and Tink, who started to cry. "Honey, you didn't fall, why are you crying?" Tink stopped long enough to tell me "I'm just so glad you saved me Mommy. You are my little peanut." This morning, she is still calling me "Little Peanut" instead of Mommy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-8781172629924721054?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/8781172629924721054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=8781172629924721054' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8781172629924721054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/8781172629924721054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/kid-said-what.html' title='The Kid Said What??'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6288692919241397043.post-1526665725474533802</id><published>2009-08-05T15:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T16:04:15.557-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8 years.</title><content type='html'>For our anniversary last night Hubbs and I went out to dinner.  With Tink of course.  We don't go anywhere without Tink. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed to my favorite mexican restaurant and I had the chicken chimichanga.  There is no other option for me.  It was delish!  Hubbs had tacos and Tink had McDonald's.  Everyone was happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave Hubbs the card I picked up and also the news about my company retreat later this month. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He liked the card but was less than thrilled about spending time with my boss and coworkers.  He thought the Christmas dinner we endure every year was torture enough, now it's a weekend away with them.  (Do you foresee lots of beer for Hubbs that weekend?  Yeah, me too.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner we headed back home where I cleaned house and Hubbs sat on the front porch and watched Tink ride her four wheeler around the yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later I commented to Hubbs that it doesn't feel like we have been married for 8 years already.  He agreed, he says it feels more like 28.  I'm not sure what he meant by that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6288692919241397043-1526665725474533802?l=imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/feeds/1526665725474533802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6288692919241397043&amp;postID=1526665725474533802' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1526665725474533802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6288692919241397043/posts/default/1526665725474533802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imnotyourexpectations.blogspot.com/2009/08/8-years.html' title='8 years.'/><author><name>I'm just me...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14709490345367368725</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2KcyEyp3cE/THZ0Ui5LxGI/AAAAAAAAAlE/4F_Ao0Ua61Y/S220/beach+2010+5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
