<?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-34330080</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:16:01.582-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Drowning in Diapers</title><subtitle type='html'>The day-to-day ramblings of a Stay-at-Home-Mother with two boys in diapers living in small-town America who once lived in a big city and had a job but now stays at home and avoids hitting Amish buggies on the road in rural Pennsylvania.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-6574221282822713927</id><published>2007-02-08T07:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T09:10:18.257-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Inspiration</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/MyInspirationDay6Layoutupload.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/MyInspirationDay6Layoutupload.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of the Day &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they're busy doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning."&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;--Morrie Schwartz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;My Happiness Today &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got to sleep in a bed with clean sheets, clean blankets, no dog hair, no baby puke and no matchbox cars hiding in the covers. It was heaven...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;On My Mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've mentioned, I'm participating in the 40 Days of Scrapping Purpose at Divine Digital. So far this has been a really neat experience. Basically, they give you something to journal about via a scrapbook page that helps you think more about yourself. I'm a little behind--I just did Day 6 and they're on Day 8 but with two babies that is pretty good! Anyway, I got to thinking about what inspires me, not just with digital scrapbooking and photography, but with life. So I decided to start a list. Maybe I'll add to this list later, maybe not. I don't know. But today what inspires me is on my mind. So here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family--includes my husband, kids, parents, inlaws, cousins, nieces, nephews, dogs, cats, etc.&lt;br /&gt;Now to the fun stuff:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coffee (you know this was going to be on the list)&lt;br /&gt;Ice Cream (pistachio, blizzards from DQ, coffee, bubble gum ice cream at Baskin Robbins)&lt;br /&gt;Light (natural light and the way it hits things)&lt;br /&gt;Poetry (Carolyn Forche, Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, William Stafford, Mark Strand, Adrienne Rich, Sharon Olds, and many, many more)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sesame Street (yes, I find it inspiring and funny and takes me back 40 years)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Laundry ( there is something about making things clean and the way laundry smells fresh out of the dryer)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Snow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christmas Lights (I like the colored ones)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Historical Fiction (makes me glad I live in this day and age)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Butter (real butter)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bread fresh out of the oven with a bowl of homemade soup&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Autumn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fine Art Photography (too many favorite photographers to name)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Candy Hearts (you know, the Valentine kind)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peeps (now you can get them all year round)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dan Zanes (my boys love his music and so do I)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gotta stop here, Henry pooped...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February72006205.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February72006205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February72006141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February72006141.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/Sophiecopy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/Sophiecopy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-6574221282822713927?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/6574221282822713927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=6574221282822713927' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/6574221282822713927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/6574221282822713927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-inspiration.html' title='My Inspiration'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-1262329858127687831</id><published>2007-02-07T07:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T07:38:55.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February52006020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February52006020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February52006122.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February52006122.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/CarsTrucksandThingsThatGocopy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/CarsTrucksandThingsThatGocopy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/SamFebruary07copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/SamFebruary07copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/SamFebruary07copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/TendingMyGardenDay5upload.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/TendingMyGardenDay5upload.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-1262329858127687831?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/1262329858127687831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=1262329858127687831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/1262329858127687831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/1262329858127687831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2007/02/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-5922434186807674732</id><published>2007-02-06T10:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T11:05:58.551-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Food Glorious Food!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February52006078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February52006078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February52006079-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/February52006079-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sam's latest spoon....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;his matchbox cars!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First you need only look: Notice and honor the radiance of everything about you ... Play in this universe. --Anne Hillman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Happiness Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a fun morning with the boys. Sam helped me give Henry a bath and enjoyed washing his cars in the water and laughing at his brother. It was all I could do to keep Sam from jumping in the tub with Henry! All of this made me happy...my two boys having fun, splashing in the water and I got to witness it all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On My Mind...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eating. Eating has become a major issue in this house. Sam is a good eater one day, bad eater the next. Yesterday he decided that feeding himself could only be done by using a matchbox car as a utensil (not the picture above). While this is funny and makes for great photos for his scrap book, I can't help but wonder, "When is he going to eat with a spoon and fork?" Every meal is an adventure as he tries to feed himself. He won't wear a bib so I strip him down to his diaper and let him go at it. By the time the meal is done he is covered from head to toe in yogurt, applesauce, etc. And of course, my floor is a sticky mess, too. He also has this thing about textures. He only likes smooth things or crunchy things, nothing at all wet or slimey. So we have eating issues. And I am so terribly frustrated with all of it. And it is on my mind today because I have a freshly bathed Sam who is going to be a sticky mess after lunch.....and so will my floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Layouts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few layouts I finished that I thought I'd share: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/HappyHenrycopy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/HappyHenrycopy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/HappyHappyHappycopy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/HappyHappyHappycopy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/FirstSnowcopy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/FirstSnowcopy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/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;More tomorrow....&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;BR&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-5922434186807674732?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/5922434186807674732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=5922434186807674732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/5922434186807674732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/5922434186807674732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2007/02/sams-latest-spoon.html' title='Food Glorious Food!'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-2645367465266182012</id><published>2007-02-05T11:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T00:00:44.379-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love is Stern</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/January2906205.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/January2906205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sam in the tub...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love is something more stern and splendid than mere kindness."&lt;br /&gt;--C.S. Lewis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;My Happiness Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I delivered all the framed photos for my first exhibit to the coffee house where the exhibit is taking place. This morning I took the boys and we got to see everything hanging on the walls. Not only did it feel good to see my photos out there for the world to see (and people were looking!) but Sam was so funny walking from picture to picture of himself with this huge, confident and unfortunately vain smile on his face! So all of this together made me happy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On My Mind&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parenting. This is what is on my mind as it is just about every second of every day. Sam is officially in the tantrum phase of his life and it is one of the most challenging aspects of parenting for me to handle these tantrums. I have decided that if he isn't going to hurt himself or someone else, I will ignore his tantrums. But it is hard. So very hard. So my quote of the day reflects how I feel that loving my kids means being stern almost as often as it is to be kind and loving. I never thought it would be so hard to say no. Saying yes is easy and saying no is hard, especially when it is something related to Sam's jealousy of Hank. If I am feeding Hank or holding him on my lap, Sam will immediately come rushing over with a book and demand that I read to him. Sometimes I give in if I have given Hank enough love for the time being and sometimes I just have to say no. And it hurts so much to see him pout and walk away dragging his teddy bear and his big book and head to his room because he is mad at me. So that is what is on my mind today. Saying no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Layout of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am participating in the 40 Days of Scrapping Purpose at Divine Digitals. Here is one of the layouts I did this weekend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GGMgnWWQTqI/Rcdl_TitPoI/AAAAAAAAAAk/tqirVWUT508/s1600-h/20+Scrappin+Good+Reasons+upload.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028099647234457218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GGMgnWWQTqI/Rcdl_TitPoI/AAAAAAAAAAk/tqirVWUT508/s320/20+Scrappin+Good+Reasons+upload.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.divinedigital.com/gallery/showphoto.php/photo/14394/cat/500/ppuser/2392"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-2645367465266182012?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/2645367465266182012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=2645367465266182012' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/2645367465266182012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/2645367465266182012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2007/02/sam-in-tub.html' title='Love is Stern'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GGMgnWWQTqI/Rcdl_TitPoI/AAAAAAAAAAk/tqirVWUT508/s72-c/20+Scrappin+Good+Reasons+upload.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-117039239423104717</id><published>2007-02-01T23:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T13:36:38.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear or Courage?</title><content type='html'>Blog under construction----it is a mess today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/Day1ItsAllAbouttheCupload.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/Day1ItsAllAbouttheCupload.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yep, that's me...I'm participating in the "40 Days of Scrapping Purpose" at Divine Digitals. This is the first day, so this is my first layout. It is to be all about me....so if you know me, don't know me, or even don't care to know me, this page tells a lot about who I am and who I am not. ps. I'm the adult in the layout!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear." --Ambrose Redmoon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sitting at the Kind Cafe, my local coffee house where I sit and brew up all my scrap pages and work on my digital photos, and they were playing a satellite radio station that brought back a lot of memories. I heard songs from my past. Here I was in the middle of small town USA and I hear the Smiths "Big Mouth" song playing in the background. It took me back to my younger days--I actually saw the Smiths in concert when that song was popular. It was at the Syria Mosque in Pittsburgh, the same place I saw REM, another band I heard today singing yet another song from my past, "Don't Go Back to Rockville." And then the music drifted to Devo and "Whip It" and I fell back into my past and was reminded of friends I no longer keep in touch with and fun times I had during those marvolous late 80s. For a moment or two, I wasn't a 40 year old mother who is sleep deprived, bitchy and tired of reading "Cars, Trucks and Everything that Goes" by Richard Scary a million times to my son. So that was my happiness today. I got in touch with my past while sitting in the present drinking a great cup of coffee and watching the world go by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;On My Mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fear. As a mother, it can be all-consuming. My son falls down and goes boom. I fear a head injury. My son starts coughing. I fear a chest cold. My son dives out of his crib. I fear broken limbs, a concussion and a trip to the emergency room. These are just a few examples of the fear that I have taken on as a mother. I always thought I would be the mother who wouldn't constantly worry and fear for her child. But I guess I can' t argue with human nature and I can't help but be fearful of things concering my boys. I guess what I am learning now, especially since I have two little ones to depend on me, is that I need to have the courage to be the mom they need me to be. I need to let go of the fears that consume me at times and keep me awake with worry. When my boys were newborns I did the thing probably just about every mother does--watch their chest while their sleeping to make sure they are breathing. Now that they are getting older, with each milestone they reach I reach another chapter in the book I call "Fears, Trials and Tribulations." I know that I will never be the perfect mother. I will, and have, made mistakes. Yesterday for dinner my son had Cheezits and applesauce. Not the healthy meal my mother would approve of, but hey, I got him to eat and feed himself the applesauce with a spoon. And the dogs enjoyed the Cheezits. So when all was said and done, I was happy with that meal. But this fear that consumes me--that I'll be a bad mother and my child will get hurt on my watch because of something I did or didn't do--I have to somehow find the courage to overcome that. So what is more important than fear if I am going to somehow find this courage I need? That's easy, my boys and my husband. For them I need to let it go. So tomorrow, I will begin the task of conquering my fear. And if it is cheezits and peanut butter for dinner, so be it. He's healthy, he won't starve. As my husband constantly tells me, "It is what it is." That's going to become my mantra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of my latest digital scrapbook pages. I've been really busy getting ready for my show so I haven't had a lot of time, but these are a few I got finished and like enough to share:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width: 360px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w15.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/1161007163.pbw" height="240" width="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/getyourown.gif" style="border-width: 0;" vspace="1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-117039239423104717?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/117039239423104717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=117039239423104717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/117039239423104717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/117039239423104717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2007/02/fear-or-courage.html' title='Fear or Courage?'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116981300357307298</id><published>2007-01-26T06:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T13:51:28.394-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy, Busy, Busy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/1600/648669/True%20Form%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 323px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 342px" height="342" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/400/734986/True%20Form%20copy.jpg" width="289" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My son, Henry...and my latest digital accomplishment as this layout was the "Layout of the Day" at &lt;a href="http://www.digiscrapdivas.com/photopost/showgallery.php?cat=500&amp;ppuser=3346"&gt;Digiscrapdiva&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got a lot of choices. If getting out of bed in the morning is a chore and you're not smiling on a regular basis, try another choice. ~Steven D. Woodhull&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It snowed last night. Snowed enough that I can take Sam outside today and let him roll around for the first time in the great white stuff. Last year we hardly got any snow and he was too little to enjoy it. Yesterday there was a little snow on the ground and he had fun touching it so I'm looking forward to getting him outside in the snow today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On My Mind...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a tough month emotionally, physically and mentally. I just can't seem to get back in gear after the holidays. As my husband gently reminded me last night, by January 25th all the holiday decorations really should be back in storage! Not only is it tough getting over the holidays, it is tough because our schedules have been going out of control and both my kids do better when we stick to our schedule. Eric went out of town twice this month and each time Sam took it hard. The fist time I got to experience the sport of crib diving, with Sam diving out of his crib during a temper tantrum because he wanted to see his Daddy and Daddy was in Boston. For two days he carried his daddy's picture around the house and kept pointing at him (yes, Sam is still not talking) as if he wanted to know where he was. Next, Daddy went to another work conference and Sam boycotted his nap. He almost started a fire with the silk tree in my living room and the lamp right next to it. I had yogurt and applesauce all over my living room as he ran out of the kitchen with his dinner when I turned my back (sly little bugger). Now I have applesauce stains on my living room carpet and Sam's high chair is back in the kitchen, a silk tree in my basement that I like but don't know what to do with as it is a constant battle to keep Sam from picking the leaves off the tree or shredding the artifical grass at the base (and using it to start fires with light bulbs), and the crib is gone. Sam actually slept throught the night in his toddler race car bed. Now the crib is set up in my office, which is small to begin with, and poor Henry has to reside in the land of scrapbooks and computer equipment until we get his room decorated and our room moved upstairs. On top of that, I have my exhibit coming up in February and I still need to frame more than half of the photos that I am displaying. Where does the time go? I want some of it back. I want the peaceful, sleeping child who didn't dive out of his crib. I want the holiday decorations back so I can still be holiday happy. I want my silk tree back in my living room because without it the corner looks empty and the whole look of the room has changed. Not that my living room is up for any decorating awards. It looks more like the 2007 car show exhibit floor than a living room. But anyway, I want back some time. I want back some of the emotion that has slowly been drained out of me this past month as I've dealt with the trauma of a jealous toddler who likes his little brother one minute and hates hime the next and the emotional trauma of my life in general. So when I say I am busy, busy, busy it isn't always good. But as I said earlier, it snowed. I find a sense of peace in that and so today I am going to try and leave behind all the ****and go outside and make snowangels with my son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been taking a lot of photos and scrapping a lot, so I'll end this post with a few of my favorites: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-06.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bl&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=8733702&amp;amp;site=widget-06.slide.com" width="400" height="300" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:700px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?sk=0&amp;amp;tt=0&amp;amp;cy=bl&amp;amp;ad=1&amp;amp;id=8733702&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-06.slide.com/p1/8733702/bl_t000_v000_a001_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?sk=0&amp;amp;tt=0&amp;amp;cy=bl&amp;amp;ad=1&amp;amp;id=8733702&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-06.slide.com/p2/8733702/bl_t000_v000_a001_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116981300357307298?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116981300357307298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116981300357307298' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116981300357307298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116981300357307298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2007/01/busy-busy-busy.html' title='Busy, Busy, Busy'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116851950089113865</id><published>2007-01-11T07:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T14:08:06.151-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally, a post!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/SixImpossibleThingscopy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/SixImpossibleThingscopy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sam, taken last weekend at the park when the weather was incredibly warm for January....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow." &lt;em&gt;~Charlotte Bronte«&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had seven hours of sleep last night, which has not happened in a long time. So, hopefully today will be a great day because I'm well rested and not as sleep deprived as I've been lately. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On My Mind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The holidays are over and my "ruffled mind" is finally starting to clear. Thank God! I have been so busy before, during and after the holidays that I just now have found the time and energy (note: sleep deprivation has been an issue for weeks) to post on my blog. Here is an update on what's been going on here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My house has more cars and trucks than one can imagine now that Santa and lots of grandparents have paid their holiday respects to the boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/1600/256050/December%2025%20352.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/320/186677/December%2025%20352.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Santa brought Sam the GeoTrak system from Fisher Price. On Christmas Eve like dumb parents we attempted to set it up. It did not fit on the train table my sister gave us. So, I now have a GeoTrak system under my dining room table. We won't be eating there for a long time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/1600/372682/December%2025%20284.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/200/783484/December%2025%20284.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I have a new dishwasher. Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Sam has reverted to wanting to eat baby food now that he sees his brother eating it. But he wants to feed it to himself. Talk about a mess.......I had to get a new mop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Henry now can use the excersaucer (sp?)! He loves it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/1600/866317/December%2025%20135.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/320/845244/December%2025%20135.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/1600/954965/December%2025%20324.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I have been selected to be on the Creative Team for several digital scrapbook designers and I've enjoyed making layouts of the boys with free stuff! Here are some layouts I made with the kits from Kellie McDonald:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/HenryJanuary2007copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/HenryJanuary2007copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&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&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/SweetStuffcopy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/SweetStuffcopy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And here is a holiday layout of Henry that I made for my Guest CT spot with Katie the Scrapbook Lady:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/MommysLittleSantaupload.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. We got to see our family from Florida after the new year. It was great to see Marty and Sherry and their boys--they've gotten so big! Sam was so exhausted from playing with all his cousins he fell asleep in the middle of all the kids playing! I just love this photo I took of Hank and his cousin, Alex:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/1600/818115/Alex%20and%20Hank%20sepia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/320/267375/Alex%20and%20Hank%20sepia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I finally got to do the "mall walk" with some of the other moms in the MOMS club. It was a lot of fun! I'm not used to functioning that early in the morning and exercising has simply not been done for such a long time, but it felt great to walk the loop of the mall and chat. One loop was almost a mile and I lost track of how many times we went around. Sam got to get out of the stroller and run around, too, which was great because he then took a three hour nap in the afternoon once we got home from the farmers market. So that was something I will definitely do each week, as long as my boys aren't sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Yesterday I received my state tax number to charge sales tax to people I photograph so I am almost officially in business. I am setting up my own photography/graphic design business, "Wetfish Designs," with the help of my sister. I plan on doing candid photo sessions of children, creating digital scrapbooks, greeting cards and birth announcements. I'm going to start small but hopefully by the time the boys are in kindergarten, which is full day around here, I will be going full speed ahead. So that is something I am excited about...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Last, but certainly not least, I am having a gallery showing of my photography with a friend/relative, Jim Richey, at the Kind Cafe here in Selinsgrove. They are going to hang our work on February 4th and the opening will be the following weekend. I'm so excited about showing my work with Jim's. He is such a fantastic photographer and it is an honor to have my work hang with his! If you want to see some of his work, visit his &lt;a href="http://www.jimricheyphoto.com/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; and you will see why I am so excited! He's been all over the world photographing wildlife, nature, etc. His African photos of the lions and his South Georgia photos of thepenguinss are my favorite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is a rundown of my life since I last posted.....have a great new year!&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/34330080-116851950089113865?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116851950089113865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116851950089113865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116851950089113865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116851950089113865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2007/01/finally-post.html' title='Finally, a post!'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116644606379717051</id><published>2006-12-18T07:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T07:47:43.896-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.bytephoto.com/photopost/data/500/5724December_12_054_bw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.bytephoto.com/photopost/data/500/5724December_12_054_bw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My son, Henry (aka "Hank")...I took this the other day when he was in a very alert mood...and I like it so he is my star photo today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We shall find peace. We shall hear the angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds."&lt;br /&gt;~Anton Chekhov&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel peaceful this morning. I am not sleep-deprived or bitchy. My sky isn't sparkling with diamonds--just clouds and rain--but I can hear one little angel cooing on his playmat at my feet and another one will soon be screaming to get out of his crib any minute. And all of this makes me happy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On My Mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've been ripped apart with feelings of guilt. Guilt for having a second son and making my first son jealous. I know this is a normal phase for Sam to be going through but that doesn't make it any less heart-breaking for me. Friends of mine who have children similar in age difference have tried to make me feel better by telling me that all this will change and soon they will be friends. But somehow I can't see that happening, at least not for several years. The minute Hank is able to grab and run with Sam's cars and trucks there will be a war in this house. I just know it. And to think, I'm crying and upset over Sam ignoring him. Wait until he throws things at him on a regular basis (he has already started that so we keep the large fleet of vehicles like the garbage truck, fire truck, etc. out of the throwing zone when Hank is around), and I will be on anti-anxiety medicine. Part of the guilt is feeling that by feeling guilty I don't love Hank as much as Sam. But I know that is not true. Having two kids so close in age is tough physically, mentally and emotionally. I just never knew it would be this tough. So that is what is on my mind today. I am missing cuddles with Sam in bed watching Sesame Street every morning--something we used to do every day until Hank came along. I'm missing walks to the playground--taking an infant out in the cold weather isn't in the plan. Yesterday we had a family day and went to visit a train exhibit (total bust as the place was too small for the trains and the zillion kids there to see it) and a local playground that is Sam's favorite. What a joy it was to watch Sam take on the playground and go down the slide and laugh. He got to feed the ducks, one of this favorite things to do, and of course he had my husband on the move trying to keep him from jumping in the creek after the ducks. He got all excited with the skateboarders and kids riding their bmx bikes in the skate park. He could have stood there all day and watched that display. So even though yesterday was great and Sam had a blast, it left me with feelings of guilt because days like that can only happen when someone can go with me or stay at home with Hank. I wish I could give that happiness to Sam everyday and I can't because I have another child whose needs outweigh Sam's at the moment. I know this is just something I must tackle as a mother and learn to deal with but I'm having a hard time with it and the holiday season will either make it better or worse. We already know that any present Hank gets will be Sam's at least in his mind. So the holidays will really be a test for me and my emotions. Being that I am such an emotional person, let's hope for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Funny Video of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't beat SNL for holiday humor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3KS865kF3vo" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116644606379717051?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116644606379717051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116644606379717051' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116644606379717051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116644606379717051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/12/guilt.html' title='Guilt'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116623548230780673</id><published>2006-12-15T20:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T21:20:34.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Heroes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/1600/965786/December%2012%20042%20selective%20coloring.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/320/643723/December%2012%20042%20selective%20coloring.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My son, Sam, glimpsing the final colors of Autumn out our dining room window (and watching the construction of a new house one street over--cranes and cement trucks are more appealing than leaves to a toddler)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Who is a hero? He who turns his enemy into a friend." ~The Talmud &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Happiness Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got an email from a childhood friend. It was a nice surprise and I enjoyed learning about his new life, family and job. Catching up with people you haven't thought of in years is wonderful. In a way it is life affirming. It reminds you that you are not alone and that parts of your childhood are still out there, waiting to send you an email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On My Mind...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, a couple posts back I posted about some of the news of the weird we get daily in our local paper. The catch phrase for the local paper is "Life Delivered Daily." It should read, "Weird Life Delivered Daily." Here's an example of why this change should be made in the paper's catch phrase...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week an article appeared in our paper that I wrote about earlier, the snake swinging lady who attacked the police and husband with cooperheads and rattlesnakes--and a big knife. Well, this story continues to be breaking news one month later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;With three rattlesnakes in one hand and two copperheads in the other, Terry Jackson held police at bay early Wednesday morning in the basement of her Market Street home. As officers approached her, the snakes thrashed, biting Mrs. Jackson's face and arms. She continued to hold them at bay with a knife before being subdued by a Taser."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"The star of one of the wackier news events of the year was in court yesterday and she apologized, then helpfully smiled for the news cameras trained on her. Which was nice. And not exactly the way you'd expect a woman accused of trying to commit suicide by handling venomous snakes to behave."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gets worse...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Terry L. Jackson said she regrets using five venomous snakes in an Oct. 25 standoff with police, not because she was bitten three times and fell into a coma, but due to bad publicity the reptiles are getting as a result.....While attending a recent Children and Youth hearing in Northumberland County Court, she was approached by well-wishers who shook her hand and requested autographs, she said. She obliged them, signing the notes "Snake Lady."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this is our local hero folks, the "Snake Lady." The woman who belongs in rehab for mental illness and alcohol addiciton is on the loose swinging venomous snakes at the police and her beloved and is now being claimed a hero in these parts of Pennsylvania. Children are asking for her autograph. What a bleak picture this creates of our society and of the values our children seek in their personal heroes. All I know is, if either of my sons find a hero in a woman like this---a snake-swinging, rehab deprived alcholic, I'm moving. And my sons will never own a snake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Funny Video of the Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry folks, no snake-swinging ladies found on You Tube...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116623548230780673?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116623548230780673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116623548230780673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116623548230780673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116623548230780673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/12/heroes.html' title='Heroes'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116560757081465675</id><published>2006-12-08T14:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T14:57:24.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentimental Reasons</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.bytephoto.com/photopost/data/500/5724December_5_025_copysepia-med.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.bytephoto.com/photopost/data/500/5724December_5_025_copysepia-med.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sam, staring out the dining room window at his father, who was working in the backyard...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." ~From the television show The Wonder Years&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My Happiness Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;My Christmas tree is up, lit and decorated. So far neither the cats or Sam have knocked it down or destroyed any ornaments. So as I write this post, I sit gazing at my beautiful artificial tree that was the source of much frustration, anger and introspection. Some things are worth it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BLOG NOTE: IF YOU STOP BY AND VISIT MY BLOG, LEAVE A COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW YOU WERE HERE! SO FAR MY BUDDY JOEL, A CHILDHOOD FRIEND FROM SUMMER CAMP, AND MRS. MILES, A DIGITAL SCRAPBOOKING FANATIC LIKE MYSELF, ARE THE ONLY ONES THAT STOP BY AND LEAVE SOME GOODIES. SO IF YOU ARE READING THIS, SAY HI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On My Mind&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentimentality. Memories. Are these things only women find precious? Getting out the holiday ornaments and decorating the tree always brings back fond memories of holidays when I was a child and people who are no longer with us. For example, I have a glass ornament that my grandmother on my mother's side, Grammy, gave me. My mother's handwriting is on the bottom, marking the year 1967 that Grammy gave me the ornament. And then there is an ornament from every vacation we ever took as a family. A wooden carved bear from our trip to Yellowstone. Martha and George Washington from a trip to Mt. Vernon. A sailboat from Hilton Head Island. A lobster from Maine. And of course there is my baby rattle, the rattle that was in the bouquet of flowers my father sent to my mother when I was born. These are all "top of the tree" ornaments. Now, what were once "back of the tree ornaments" on my parents' tree, are too precious to even put on my tree. the abstract, construction paper/yarn/crayone design I created at one of the Blackridge holiday parties. It is just about particles of dust at this point so it stays in the box. One thing my mother did which I am now doing for my boys is that each ornament given to me is marked and listed so I know who gave it to me or where it was from. My husband doesn't understand why these things are so important--why getting an ornament for each boy at Christmas every year is important to me and hopefully someday to them. Ornaments are a way of preserving memories. This year Sam's ornament was a motorcycle. There was quite a tantrum when I hung it on the tree for him because he is too little to understand that this isn't a motorcycle that he can play with and push around the kitchen floor. So right there, is a memory. When he is older and we hang that motorcycle on our tree or when he hangs it on his tree with his family and kids, the story of the night we gave it to him can be told. When I thought we would never have children I began getting an ornament every year for each pet. So I have quite a few cat ornaments and black labs and german shepards on my tree. This year when I hung Emma's ornament--she is my cat that died a few years ago--I remembered her and it felt good, not sad. And every year when I hang my baby rattle on the tree I miss seeing my sister's rattle hanging right next to mine like they always used to on my parent's tree. So the holidays are a time of sentimentality for me, a time to remember people, places and things. Men don't get that. And I don't know why it is that men don't get that. I've saved every card my husband ever gave me--birthday, Valentines, Mother's Day, etc. I look at them. Sometimes I cry because I come across a card he gave me after we had a fight. He always buys me cards that make me cry. So if he can do that--buy me sentimental cards that make me cry--why can't he be sentimental himself? Why doesn't he care about the ornaments on the tree that I began collecting when we were married? Our ornament from Charleston, SC was our first. We have others but he could care less. These things just don't bring meaning to him. So one wish I have for my sons is that they will be sentimental and appreciate the memories, the things that bring back the memories--the odds and ends in their lives that give them pause and an opportunity to reflect upon the people who have touched them in some way, even people they may not even remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Funny Video of the Day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Quite a few men featured in this video that probably appreciate their holiday ornaments...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2jYa_rJyG18" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116560757081465675?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116560757081465675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116560757081465675' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116560757081465675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116560757081465675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/12/sentimental-reasons.html' title='Sentimental Reasons'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116480173476605034</id><published>2006-11-29T06:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T07:03:08.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Lighting Displays</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/1600/428745/November%2026%20460%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1175/1587/320/830435/November%2026%20460%20copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little Santa, Hank...I had so much fun taking these photos of him in his Santa hat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of my Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I was thinking of a plan to dye one's whiskers green." ~Lewis Carroll&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm certainly not happy about my dog. She's yucked up my carpet again. So much for that happiness from the other today. And then there is my son, Sam, who has been up since 5:30 and is right now sitting next to me touching all the buttons on my computer, determined, I suppose, to delete this beautiful photo of his little brother so I can put one in of him (he is fascinated with looking at pictures of himself). So, I am finding it a little difficult to find some happiness this early in the morning with poop all over my carpet and a toddler bound and determined to destroy my computer with his drool-sticky fingers. But here is something I can be happy about. I made a good pot of coffee and I have half-n-half today. Yesterday I ran out and had to use milk. So, I sit here with a good cup of Joe starting at my life which is sticky, poopy and happening way too early in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;On My Mind...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holiday shopping. How can it not be on my mind. I am making most family gifts, so that is easy. But the difficult part about shopping is the task of shopping itself. Now, this is coming from someone who loves to shop. But now I am finding it to be a very unappealing activity. On Sunday I went to K-Mart to find a lighted snowman for our front yard. I don't want any of those huge blow-up things that are scary because they are showing up in front of every house in town. I wanted this little vine lighted snowman, "Snowman Sam." I guess he was the hot outdoor decoration this holiday season because he was sold out. So I called my mother. She lives in a city where there are at least three K-Marts within a short distance of her house (oh, I remember those days...). Sold out there, too. So my son Sam will be without a lighted snowman that bears his name. Now I have one of those spiral trees. How boring. There is a house on the next street over that has a light display that is something out of Hollywood. The guy must not have a job because every day there is more lighted stuff displayed in his yard. He's got all the Disney characters, a million candy canes, a few dozen Santas, etc. You name it, he's got it. Last year Sam was too little to appreciate this display of tackiness but this year I am positive he will like it. When we take him on a walk to see it, he'll be amazed. He'll try and break out of the stroller to knock some stuff down or see things up close. And then we'll head back home to our house with one little spiral tree. No blow-up nativity scenes. No animated holiday characters or reindeer. Just a spiral tree with white lights and a wreath on the door with garland. Someday he'll appreciate the fact that his parents aren't tacky and that we have good taste displayed during the holiday season. But while he is little and fascinated with things that move, glow and make tons of noise, he'll think our house is the worst decorated house on the street. I guess I can live with that. It is easier than having an expensive, tacky blow-up Santa or Frosty in front of my house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116480173476605034?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116480173476605034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116480173476605034' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116480173476605034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116480173476605034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/11/holiday-lighting-displays.html' title='Holiday Lighting Displays'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116464530521576885</id><published>2006-11-27T11:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T11:36:20.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Normal?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/My%20Photos/LaborDay137copy-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/My%20Photos/LaborDay137copy-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My sister-in-law Jennifer with Hank this summer..I just love this photo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are ... Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in my pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return."&lt;br /&gt;~Mary Jean Iron&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Happiness Today..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is Monday. Not much happiness to find in that, but I'll try. I guess one thing that is making me happy today is that my dog hasn't pooped on the carpet anywhere in my house in two days. That is an accomplishment since she has been sick for two weeks now and I am sick of cleaning it up. So that is my happiness, gross as it sounds...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On My Mind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote says a lot about what I'm thinking about today and most days. Normal days. I don't have many of those any more since I've had kids. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade my kids away for anything, including a normal day that is powered only by my needs and decisions. But some days, like today, I just want to have a normal day. Now, you are probably thinking what does a normal day look like to her? Well, here are some normal things I wish I had in my day today and most days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time to shave my legs.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time to get a shower.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time to eat three meals a day that are healthy and don't include anything with the word nugget in it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time to read and remember what I read the next time I picked up the book or magazine.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time to cook. Real food. Not frozen food.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time to go to the movies.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time to work and feel like I am making a financial contribution to my family, affording us the opportunity to do more and give our kids more. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time to get along with my husband. No further explanation needed other than to say that two kids in diapers and a sleep-deprived mother and workaholic husband makes for a turbulant marriage at times.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time to mop my floor. I try everyday to do this but it just doesn't get done. Three cats, two dogs and a toddler that drools all over the floors makes for a nasty looking floor. I need to be normal so I can mop my floors.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time to just be me. To be alone with my thoughts and find a way to creatively express who I am. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;The word "normal" is a pretty heavy word. There is a lot of energy behind it, both good and bad. Perhaps it is good that my life is not normal and I feel like my days are beyond my control. It makes life interesting and filled with unexpected pleasures and experiences, both good and bad. But sometimes, like today, I just want to be normal and have a normal day. I want that normal day to include my kids, of course, but I want a day where things go smoothly and I get all my lists checked off and still have time for me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today is not that day. My son took off his poopy diaper and left it in the living room. Thank god the dogs didn't get to it first....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Funny Video of the Day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I haven't posted a good video in a while, so here is a good one. Granted, I should have posted this one before Thanksgiving, but hey, better late than never...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-jW1vWgogLQ" name="movie"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param value="transparent" name="wmode"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-jW1vWgogLQ" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116464530521576885?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116464530521576885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116464530521576885' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116464530521576885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116464530521576885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/11/normal.html' title='Normal?'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/My%20Photos/th_LaborDay137copy-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116404143786383223</id><published>2006-11-20T10:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T11:50:38.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Thankfulness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/1November%2011%20019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/1November%2011%20019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes, that is me riding the Tonka Truck ride at the local mall with Sam...and yes, we have malls in rural Pennsylvania...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How far that little candle throws his beams!So shines a good deed in a weary world.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;~William Shakespeare&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is Monday. Not much to be happy about on Mondays but I'm going to try and find something....I guess I am happy that both boys are finally seeing signs of being snot-free and I won't have to wrestle Sam with the Saline bottle or make Hank scream for mercy as I take the snot-sucker to his nose several times a day. And snot-free means happier children, or so I would like to think. We'll see when they wake up from their morning nap...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On My Mind...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this being the Thanksgiving week, I wasn't sure if I'd have time to blog before the holiday. So today I have been thinking about what I'm thankful for this year. Now, what I'm thinking about are not the usual thankful type sentiments. These are honestly things I am thankful for this year and while some of them may be a little off the wall, anyone who is a mother or father will understand. So here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Disposable Diapers--I couldn't even imagine using cloth diapers and dealing with all that comes with using them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Formula--I am unable to breastfeed so I am thankful that someone at some point in time created formula. Now if they could just make it smell a little better...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Binkies--when I need some peace and quiet they are there to help me out. Yes, in many ways they are a curse but they are also a blessing when it comes to sleeping through the night, car trips without misery and getting through the witching hour at dinner time with my sanity intact.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Elmo Applesauce--The only applesauce--and fruit--my son will eat. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Zout--that wonderful stain remover that erases all signs of puke, poop and prunes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Desperate Housewives, Men in Trees, Brothers and Sisters, Gilmore Girls, Two and a Half Men, the History Channel, House, Ellen DeGeneres, Monk, Rescue Me, Everybody Loves Raymond, Grey's Anatomy, Ugly Betty, BBC America, the Food Network--all venues of entertainment that remind me that there is a world outside my house and that the drama is not all in my head and in my house and family.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sesame Street--without this wonderful, educational show I would not get a shower every day. It keeps Sam happy and content while I attempt to make myself presentable.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My min-van--when it is raining and you have a cart full of groceries and a kid getting wet, those automatic sliding side doors and back door are a blessing. The DVD player inside is also a blessing, even though when we drive to Florida this winter I know I will be totally sick of the movie Cars.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Our Hot Tub--we sell them in our stores, so of couse we have one. And it is a nice one, too. When I was pregnant it was the best thing for my sore back and legs. Now it is the best way to relax and get my mind off puke, poop and tantrums. And when the snow comes, and it will come soon, there is nothing better than soaking in the hot tub while the snow falls all around you. It is peace. It is quiet. It is wonderful.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Internet--without it, I'd have no outlet for my creativity. I'd also have not learned that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes were actually married in LA before their disqustingly expensive wedding in Rome on Saturday. I'd be clueless as to the status of Brittany Spears' marriage and poor parenting choices. Face it, I'd be out of the loop of life. I am being sarchastic here for those who haven't picked up on that yet...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Diet Coke with Lime--my caffeine drink of choice other than coffee. Gotta have it in the fridge. I should drink more water but at least this is a better choice than bourbon.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Daily Item--our fantastic local newspaper that keeps me laughing about news of the weird and updated on all the places I can play bingo on a daily basis. Only in small towns are the newspapers really entertaining. Last week a lady was hospitalized after swinging three poisonous snakes (2 copperheads and a rattle snack) at her husband because she was mad at him. It didn't work out in her favor as the snakes bit her instead of him. Now that is news. And funny. And a pretty pathetic portrait of marriage. And this was our front page news story. Forget Irag, elections, world hunger. We've got snake-swinging domestic violence. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hot Wheels and Matchbox Cars--the cheapest way to make my son happy. Can't go to Wal mart without picking one up. We have a fleet of them in our living room. I find them in my bed. Sometimes they are in my bathtub. But hey, they make him happy which makes me happy. He'll probably learn his colors via his cars. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sippy Cups--without them I'd have milk and juice all over my carpets and furniture. Whoever invented these deserves a prize.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Kind Cafe--the local coffee house where I escape for a few hours every week to drink a good cup of coffee, read my book or work on my photography or digital scrapbooking. On a rainy day, there is no place better.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Schwann's Man--not the man himself, but the food he delivers every two weeks to my house. It is good food and it hangs out in my freezer waiting for those nights when I need a quick dinner or ice cream to ease my anxiety.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Of course I am thankful for my husband, children, parents, in-laws, etc. etc. But I wanted to blog about things most people would probably not recite as their thankfulness around the holiday dinner table. I guess I am just being realistic this year...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Funny Video of the Day: TomKat Wedding Video&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Too funny...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2TAAZB_aHuM" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116404143786383223?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116404143786383223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116404143786383223' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116404143786383223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116404143786383223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-thankfulness.html' title='My Thankfulness'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116360597331261781</id><published>2006-11-15T10:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T17:12:56.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing Up Too Fast</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/November%2014%20047.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/November%2014%20067%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/November%2014%20049%20copy.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 362px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px" height="229" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/November%2014%20049%20copy.1.jpg" width="332" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My niece, Emilie, with the boys...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are eternity and you are the mirror. --Kahlil Gibran &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;By 10:00 this morning I mopped the floors, ran the sweeper, put in a load of laundry, desnotted two kids, and put both kids down for a nap. Makes my day....now if I can just get rid of the snot for good and they take a good nap!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On My Mind...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I saw my nieces and nephew the other day. The boys and I drove down for a quick visit. It was great to see them and watch them interact with my boys. Sam had such a great time running around their house letting them chase him. And of course he had a ball playing cars with Trevor. We only got to see Emilie for a short time since she had school that day and the other kids didn't but it was amazing to see what a beautiful woman she has become. It seems like just yesterday she was born and little.... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember buying her pink high-top converse sneakers when she was a toddler. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember watching hours and hours of Barney with her and pretending to like it. I did, however, like watching her enjoy it. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember when she saw the Riverdance video and she tried to dance like a Riverdance girl. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember countless Halloween costumes where she was the cutest kid in a costume to be found anywhere. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember taking her to Montana and spending a week with her and introducing her to fantastic things like Yellowstone National Park and room service.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember Barbies being the center of her world.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember talking to her on the phone when I could hardly understand a word she was saying.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember taking her to Disney and watching her meet Minnie Mouse, Cinderella and all the other characters she loved. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember days on the beach in Jersey in the summer and nights on the boardwalk eating ice cream.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember reading books to her at bedtime. She always picked the long books because she was smart enough to know she'd get to stay up later.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember taking her to the zoo.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember buying her cowgirl boots. They were white with pink decorations. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember taking her to see Star Wars. She didn't understand it but felt like a big girl because she got to see it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember my mother buying goldfish at Virginia Beach and putting them in a bowl on the picnic table on the deck. The sun was so hot the fish fried in the water. And Emilie informed grandma that she was going to "tell Jesus that you killed the fish."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember trips to Nordstroms and watching Emilie walk around in all the fancy high heeled shoes during the annual shoe sale.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I remember so many things that I cannot even list them. Most of all, I remember cuddling her and just hanging out with her. Now she is a teenager and the last thing on her agenda is hanging out with her aunt. She's into cell phones, instant messaging, emailing, boys, sports, music and everything else that comes with being a teenager these days. She may wear make-up and look like a supermodel, but she'll always be that little girl I watched Barney with for hours. The little girl who wanted nothing more than to sit on my lap and read books. And I love her as much today as I did when she would sit on my lap. Perhaps more because I hardly get to see her and I miss hanging out with her and being a part of her world. It is said that you don't know what you've got until it is gone. She's not gone, just a teenager. And I guess I just have to accept that she is growing up and so am I...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116360597331261781?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116360597331261781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116360597331261781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116360597331261781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116360597331261781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/11/growing-up-too-fast.html' title='Growing Up Too Fast'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116350667221628913</id><published>2006-11-14T06:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T07:28:44.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Story?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/November%2011%20072%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/November%2011%20072%20copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Henry, three months old....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"We are the hero of our own story." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;~Mary McCarthy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Happiness Today&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Philly yesterday with the boys to see my nieces and nephew. Seeing them yesterday made me really happy and that happiness is spilling over to today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;On My Mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm 40 now. Been 40 for two weeks or so. I thought I would feel different. But I don't. I feel like the same sleep deprived, coffee-loving, nap-worshiping, hate-to-wear-makeup kind of woman that I was when I was 39. So I ask myself, at 40, "what is my story?" I've been told that everyone has a story to tell but I sit here at 6:00 a.m., cup of coffee in hand, awake baby next to me, thinking about my story. From where I sit at this moment, my story is not very exciting. Don't get me wrong. I have two wonderful children and a great husband. I get to stay home and raise my kids which is a luxury these days. I drive a mini-van with a DVD player (but hey, it has seat warmers). My story has to be more than this. And so today I am thinking about my story. My quote for today reflects these thoughts and I think about what kind of hero am I. I guess a Mom is a hero. But somehow I see a hero as being something extraordinary in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were to write the story of my life and not live it (in other words, me in fiction), I suppose I would want some of these things in my story. I am too tired to even think about the hero part so I'll save that for another day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd be a world traveler. Even though I hate to fly, I want to see the world. I want to go to Ireland, Scotland, Norway, France, Greece, Australia, New Zealand and Spain. I want to take my kids with me and let them see history up close. All by the time I'm 50. And I'd stay in fancy hotels and castles eating great food and drinking great wine (not that I know what a great bottle of wine looks like since I've never been much of a wine enthusiast or drinker).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd live in Montana where the skys are big and blue and the winters warm and cozy. I'd have a ranch with lots of dogs and cats. And people to change the kitty litter. I'd ski, hike, moutain bike and fly-fish. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd have a garden and not kill the plants and vegetables I grow. Nothing more be said about this.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd drive a BMW 2002. I always wanted one of those cute little cars. And it would be black. and if I couldn't find one of those to buy, I'd drive a mini-coop or a hot pink Volkswagon bug. I keep seeing a hot pink one driving around town and I like it a lot. My husband would never let that happen, though. Even though a Volkswagon is a german car and he is the lover of all cars german, he'd never allow a hot pink car anywhere near his garage or boys.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd write a novel, historical fiction. I'd do the research for my novel while traveling through those countries I mentioned in line one.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd be a professional photographer and photograph celebrity children. Some of the photos I see in the papers and magazines of celebrity children are terrible. I could do better. Maybe not Annie Lebowitz better, but better.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd write a nationally syndicated column about motherhood and all its glories.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd exercise and enjoy it. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd have an apartment in Manhattan that I would visit on weekends and take my boys so they have culture in their lives. They'd visit all the museums, art galleries and learn what good food tastes like (not that I'm a bad cook, I'm actually a pretty good cook).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd have a cleaning lady (or man, I don't care, just as long as they can clean my house).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'd be rich, otherwise I couldn't do any of these things in my story.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Like most people, I guess I often think to myself that there has got to be more to life than "this." "This" meaning my life as it is now. It is like I am always waiting for my life to start, anticipating that moment when "this" is here and life officially begins. I thought when my first child was born that I'd arrived and that life would now begin. Same with my second child. Same with getting married. Same with moving to a new town. All these events prompted thoughts of new life and new beginnings. But my life is the same but with a few new additions and a lot less money now that I don't work. I spend most days at home playing with my son (I've become an expert at making car sounds) and cuddling my infant. I deal with poop (baby and dog), puke, tantrums and house cleaning on a daily basis. And the house never seems clean. The poop never stops. The tantrums continue. So I guess for now, this is my story. This is my life. I don't feel much like a hero. Perhaps next week that will happen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What I'm Reading&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently I am reading "The Last Bolyen" by Karen Harper. So far, so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Funny Video of the Day: Making Whoopie&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love Ellen Degeneres...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/taq0Yp03o00" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Picks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Shining Star" by Dan Zanes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"The One Thing" by Paul Colman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Stand Up" by Everyday Sunday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Corduroy" by Pearl Jam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Free" by Shawn McDonald&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Strange Condition" by Pete Yorn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116350667221628913?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116350667221628913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116350667221628913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116350667221628913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116350667221628913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-story.html' title='My Story?'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116194349631334925</id><published>2006-10-27T05:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T06:18:53.280-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/October23140copy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/October23140copy2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sam and Ernie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I am listing quotes in my blog today, here is one of my favorite movie quotes--the kind of thing every woman hopes a man will someday say about her:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I might be the only person on the face of the earth that knows you're the greatest woman on earth. I might be the only one who appreciates how amazing you are in every single thing that you do… and in every single thought that you have, and how you say what you mean, and how you almost always mean something that's all about being straight and good. I think most people miss that about you, and I watch them, wondering how they can watch you … and never get that they just met the greatest woman alive. And the fact that I get it makes me feel good, about me. " ~Jack Nicholson, "As Good As it Gets"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;On My Mind...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am 40. Not quite sure how I feel about that yet. But we're going home to Pittsburgh to celebrate. No place else I'd rather be than home for my birthday. Burgers at Tessaros, a trip to the zoo with the boys, a visit to Whole Foods and a birthday cake from Prentals Bakery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to celebrate my birthday blog-style, here are 40 of my favorite quotes about aging:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;It seemed the world was divided into good and bad people. The good ones slept better... while the bad ones seemed to enjoy the waking hours much more. ~Woody Allen&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The aging process has you firmly in its grasp if you never get the urge to throw a snowball. ~Doug Larson&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. ~Mark Twain&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hope, as old as your despair. ~Douglas MacArthur&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The first sign of maturity is the discovery that the volume knob also turns to the left. ~Jerry M. Wright&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;An archeologist is the best husband any woman can have: the older she gets, the more interested he is in her. ~Agatha Christie&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm not 40, I'm eighteen with 22 years experience. ~Author Unknown&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Old age ain't no place for sissies. ~Bette Davis&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Middle age is having a choice between two temptations and choosing the one that'll get you home earlier. ~Dan Bennett&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The first forty years of life give us the text; the next thirty supply the commentary on it. ~Arthur Schopenhauer&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You know you're getting old when all the names in your black book have M.D. after them. ~Arnold Palmer&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. ~Ambrose Bierce&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The elderly don't drive that badly; they're just the only ones with time to do the speed limit. ~Jason Love&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thanks to modern medical advances such as antibiotics, nasal spray, and Diet Coke, it has become routine for people in the civilized world to pass the age of 40, sometimes more than once. ~Dave Barry&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We thought we were running away from the grown-ups, and now we're the grown-ups. ~Margaret Atwood&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is only one cure for gray hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine. ~P.G. Wodehouse&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I was 40, my doctor advised me that a man in his 40s shouldn't play tennis. I heeded his advice carefully and could hardly wait until I reached 50 to start again. ~Hugo L. BlackThink&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Regular naps prevent old age, especially if you take them while driving. ~Author Unknown&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't know how you feel about old age... but in my case I didn't even see it coming. It hit me from the rear. ~Phyllis Diller&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The older you get the stronger the wind gets - and it's always in your face. ~Jack Nicklaus &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country. ~Kurt Vonnegut&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;At sixteen I was stupid, confused and indecisive. At twenty-five I was wise, self-confident, prepossessing and assertive. At forty-five I am stupid, confused, insecure and indecisive. Who would have supposed that maturity is only a short break in adolescence? ~Jules Feiffer&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age. ~Lucille Ball&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;First you forget names; then you forget faces; then you forget to zip up your fly; and then you forget to unzip your fly. ~Branch Rickey&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I still have a full deck; I just shuffle slower now. ~Author Unknown&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest. ~Larry Lorenzoni&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Inflation is when you pay fifteen dollars for the ten-dollar haircut you used to get for five dollars when you had hair. ~Sam Ewing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gray hair is God's graffiti. ~Bill Cosby&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I can remember when the air was clean and sex was dirty. ~George Burns&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;At my age I do what Mark Twain did. I get my daily paper, look at the obituaries page and if I'm not there I carry on as usual. ~Patrick Moore&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When you become senile, you won't know it. ~Bill Cosby&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have to be careful to get out before I become the grotesque caricature of a hatchet-faced woman with big knockers. -- (on growing old in Hollywood, March 2001, More Magazine) ~Jamie Lee Curtis&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Talk about getting old. I was getting dressed and a peeping tom looked in the window, took a look and pulled down the shade. ~Joan Rivers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The best way to get most husbands to do something is to suggest that perhaps they're too old to do it. ~Anne Bancroft&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Old age is an excellent time for outrage. My goal is to say or do at least one outrageous thing every week. ~Louis Kronenberger&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you suveyed a hundred typical middle-aged Americans, I bet you'd find that only two of them could tell you their blood types, but every last one of them would know the theme song from the 'Beverly Hillbillies'. ~Dave Barry&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The return of my birthday, if I remember it, fills me with thoughts which it seems to be the general care of humanity to escape. ~Samuel Johnson&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is absolutely nothing to be said in favour of growing old. There ought to be leglislation against it. ~ Patrick Moore &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I was young I was called a rugged individualist. When I was in my fifties I was considered eccentric. Here I am doing and saying the same things I did then and I'm labeled senile. ~ George Burns&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To be seventy years young is sometimes far more cheerful and hopeful than to be forty years old. ~ Oliver Wendell Holmes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116194349631334925?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116194349631334925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116194349631334925' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116194349631334925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116194349631334925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/10/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to Me'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116100747467839487</id><published>2006-10-16T09:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T10:22:35.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Makes You Think...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/Oct%2013%20084.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/Oct%2013%20084.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will love the light for it shows me the way. Yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars. --Og Mandino&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband brought me flowers yesterday and they were the first thing I really noticed when I went to get my coffee. And I smiled. And it made me really happy that he brought me flowers yesterday. That happiness has overflowed to today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On My Mind... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm thinking about death today. Morbid as that sounds, it is on my mind. An acquaintance of mine back in Pittsburgh passed away last week. She was a pilot and died in a plane crash near where we used to live. Elaine was a fun person. We took golf lessons together with a group of women on Friday nights back when Dear Husband was a golf course superintendent. We had many fun Fridays with Elaine. She was as terrible a golfer as the rest of us. We were really all there just for the laughs and companionship. We bitched about men, dieting, and, of course, our terrible golf game. The beers and martinis that followed our Friday night lesson were also a lot of fun, too. So death is on my mind. Elaine is on my mind. Ever since I found out she died and I see a plane in the sky, I think of Elaine. We live a mile or two from a small airport, the kind of airport Elaine used to fly out of in Pittsburgh. A lot of planes fly over our house. Yesterday I couldn't help but notice every plane, not just because my son loves planes and goes running to the window every time he hears one fly over us, but because of Elaine. The obituary in the Post Gazette said "she died doing what she loved most--flying." Not many people can have that said about their death. I'd much rather go down doing what I love than dying in some hospital bed, suffering in pain from some disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elaine was a good person. She'll be missed. She was loved and she was a friend to many. I'd like to say she was my friend, but in truth we were really just acquaintances. But acquaintances still touch your life and leave a void when they are gone. And today Elaine is gone. Her plane is gone. But her passion for flying will live on, I am sure, in the students that she taught and in her friends that were pilots. I hope they fly safe, especially our friend Bill, who introduced us to Elaine. So fly safe, Bill. And when you are up there, think of Elaine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Funny Video of the Day: Evolution of Dance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the number one watched video on YouTube...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vS10iEz3aV4" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My iTunes Picks of the Day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Elaine's death has me feeling in a somber mood. Here are some moody songs that make you think...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Remember Me" by Mark Schultz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Lonely People" by America&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"I'm Thankful" by David Bailey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Share Hope" by David Bailey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Only Hope" by Caedmon's Call&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"100 Years" by Five for Fighting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Don't Be Shy" by Cat Stevens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"If I Laugh" by Cat Stevens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out" by Cat Stevens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Quietly Led" by Cosey Sheridan&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-116100747467839487?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116100747467839487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116100747467839487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116100747467839487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116100747467839487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/10/makes-you-think.html' title='Makes You Think...'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116074231641093438</id><published>2006-10-13T07:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T16:45:25.606-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More Small Town Chuckles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/tractor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/tractor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Square Dancing Tractors&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-They're at it again!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“I hate small towns because once you've seen the cannon in the park there's nothing else to do.” ~Lenny Bruce&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously Lenny Bruce has not been to the local towns around here because in addition to lots of cannons, we have dancing tractors and Meat Bingo (I still haven't figured out what that is all about).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;On My Mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am once again reflecting on the joys and chuckles of small town life in America. Yes folks, the "Middlecreek Square Dancing Tractors" are at it again. This time it is at the local Apple Harvest Festival that kicked off last night. Now, if this wasn't a nighttime gig, I would have been there. My son loves tractors. He loves music. He'd love the dancing tractors. I'd love to get a first-hand glimpse of just what square dancing tractors are all about. But 18 month old toddlers and 2 month old babies don't go to Apple Harvest festivals to see dancing tractors on Friday nights. That is something they have to look forward to in their later years...that and perhaps Meat Bingo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living in a small town, as I've mentioned on my blog numerous times, has been quite a drastic change for me. Yes, there are things I miss. Like wireless Internet in coffee shops. Yesterday when hanging out at the coffee house in town I stupidly asked the owner how to connect to their wireless Interent. Duh...they don't have wireless in public spaces around here. And in the local newspaper there is an article about a local Post Office holding an open house. Refreshments will be served. A meet and greet with postal workers will be held. When I lived in Pittsburgh the postal workers barely spoke to customers let alone sponsored open houses and served refreshments. And, in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness, bras are being strung across the local Susquehanna River. In Pittsburgh, that just wouldn't happen. Too many rivers. Too many bras. Too many men driving into the rivers because they were gazing at the Victoria Secret art exhibit hanging over the Allegheny River. Last week's county paper headline on the front page was the free fire truck rides being offered by one of the county's fire departments in honor of Fire Prevention Week. In Pittsburgh that wouldn't even make the paper, let alone the front page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another small town news item that has me laughing to myself as I drank my morning coffee today is an article about Romeos. Thinking Shakespeare? Thinking Romance? Think again. &lt;a href="http://www.dailyitem.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20061014/NEWS04/610140306"&gt;Romeos are "Retired Old Men Eating Out." &lt;/a&gt;The article is about where to find these Romeos. I'm telling you, move to a small town and the local news is comedy central.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So living in a small town once again has me chuckling this morning. The county paper arrives in my mailbox tomorrow and I'm sure I'll have a few more chuckles as I peruse the news that can only be found in small town America. But I did learn something very interesting in the local paper about Friday the 13th, which was yesterday. Did you know that the fear of Friday the 13th is called paraskavedekatriaphobia, a specialized form of triskaidekaphobia, a phobia of the number 13? And, did you know that if you lived in Greece or Spain, Tuesday the 13th is their unlucky day? If I hadn't moved to a small town from a big city I probably would have never learned this very important information. To learn more fascinating facts about Friday the 13th visit &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friday_13th"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;...to learn more interesting and fascinating facts about living in a small town, come back and read this blog again. I'm always finding something in the paper worth blogging about...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Funny Video of the Day: Tom Cruise &amp; Oprah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really sick of hearing about Tom Cruise and his baby and his wedding and his overall insanity. So this video just makes my day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rLnxcKV8RJ8" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Picks of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Enough picks for kids, here are some picks for hip moms:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Shredding the Document" by John Hiatt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Sunny Days" by Jars of Clay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Bare" by Matt Nathanson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Sleepwalker" by the Wallflowers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Fading Away" by Kristin Hall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Brace Yourself" by Howie Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"One" by Tait (cover of U2 song)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Guitar Town" by Steve Earle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"I'm Gonna Make You Love Me" by the Jayhawks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"The Gathering" by Cademon's Call&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116074231641093438?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116074231641093438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116074231641093438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116074231641093438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116074231641093438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/10/more-small-town-chuckles.html' title='More Small Town Chuckles'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116057621292653196</id><published>2006-10-11T10:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T08:03:46.993-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Zap"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/Dad%20in%20the%20Fall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/Dad%20in%20the%20Fall.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One of my favorite fall photos of my dad, taken in the Laurel Mountains several years ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quotes of My Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The most exciting breakthroughs of the 21st century will not occur because of technology but because of an expanding concept of what it means to be human." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~John Naisbitt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Sometimes you have to be selfish to be selfless."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Edward Albert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Happiness Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is Thursday and I the sitter is coming for a few hours. Boy does that make me happy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On My Mind&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First it was scientists inventing vaccines to curb bad habits (refer to my archives). Now I have come across an article from last week that is very interesting, if not downright crazy and insane, that depicts yet another wacky story from the world of science. Here is an excerpt and a few of my responses:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/hsn/20061005/hl_hsn/studyspotsthebrainsselfishnessoffswitch"&gt;Study Spots the Brain's Selfishness 'Off-Switch' &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Civil society may hinge on a tiny piece of tissue at the front of the human brain, a new study suggests.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Experiments involving a "fairness" game show that the right side of this region -- called the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex -- helps people suppress selfish urges in obviously unjust situations, even at their own expense.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Swiss and American team behind this research noted that, despite a long history of crime, wars and rapaciousness, human beings are innately cooperative. In fact, Homo sapiens is the only species to exhibit "reciprocal fairness" -- the punishment of others' unfair behaviors, even in situations where doing so hurts the punisher.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Selfish urges. Now this is an interesting topic, especially for mothers. We certainly are thrown in the mix of a lot of unjust situations. Scientists really need to talk to us about addressing selfish urges and unjust situations. Instead of having people play "fairness games," I think scientists would be better off inventing an "urge remote" that people, especially mothers and wives, can use to zap anyone who is being selfish or contributing to us being in unjust situations. Kind of like that movie "Click"with Adam Sandler (not that I've seen it, but I've seen the previews). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here are a few ways this SAHM would use her "urge remote":&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sex&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;: Let's face it, when you've dealt with cranky kids, poop and snot all day and you are sleep deprived, sex is not a top priority. It is something we watch others do on Gray's Anatomy (McDreamy and McSteamy really help erase the snot and poop and sleep deprivation) and Desperate Housewives. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Zap"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the husband, even though he loves and adores me and wants to enjoy me. He now won't initiate sex when he knows I'm tired and cranky and just want to watch Gray's Anatomy or catch up on the Young and the Restless on Soapnet (yes, it is one of my selfish, waste-of-time weaknesses--I am a woman who loves her story...).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Meals from Scratch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;: I'd love to cook a fancy meal and have a new gourmet dish served to my family every night, but since my son doesn't eat and I'm usually too tired and too busy to prepare anything from scratch these days, the Schwann's meals or stuff from Sam's Club will just have to suffice. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Zap"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the family. They are now happy with what I give them to eat and they eat it. Some nights we even eat out. Some nights a chef from the Food Network shows up at my door and begs to make our dinner. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Naps&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;: How nice would it be if both my kids took naps at the same time not just once a day, but twice a day. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Zap"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the kids. They now are taking naps twice a day and I am now able to lounge around eating chocolates (Godiva of course), catching up on the Young and the Restless and reading a book a day. Oh, the life of a SAHM...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Money&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;: I miss buying books on Amazon whenever I want (hardcovers, too!) and having new clothes each season. It is just way too unjust that I am deprived of these luxuries in life. I wish I could buy my kids Hanna Anderson clothes and the latest Gap Kids and Gymboree outfits (at least the cute ones). &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Zap"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the economy. Society now recognizes the value of a SAHM (i.e. Dr. Laura says SAHMs produce better kids that grow up to be achieving, well-adjusted citizens and she is right about everything, at least that what she says) and pays us all great salaries just for staying home with our kids. I now have a book and clothing allowance that lets me delight in hardcover books, clothes from stores I used to shop in when I had a real job (J.Jill, Coldwater Creek, J. Crew, Banana Republic, etc.) and my kids are so fashionably dressed they belong on the cover of Child magazine (the kids on the cover of that magazine are always dressed to the nines).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Formula&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;: I hate the powder formula but use it because it is so much more affordable. But I love the liquid formula. It is just so much easier to prepare and easier for my baby to digest. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Zap"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the inventors of formula. Liquid is now the only way to purchase formula and it is affordable. No longer do I have to deal with the yucky paste at the bottom of the bottles. No longer must I heat the water and pray all the powder dissolves as I go at it vigourously with the wire whisk. My kid doesn't burp a lot. And he poops better...(I know, TMI)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coupons&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;: Yes coupons are great but they are a pain. You have to sort through them, catalog them and, most important, you must remember to take them with you to the store and compare the sales ads in the Sunday circulars so you know which store is the best one to visit and use your coupons that week. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Zap"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the grocery stores and companies that distribute food. Food is now so cheap we do not need coupons. We can even by all name-brand food and not as many store-brands to save money (sometimes the store-brand is just as good if not better than the name-brand so I won't give them up completely in this zapping situation).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grey Hair&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;: The further and further I get into the journey of motherhood, the more grey hair I seem to find on my head. That and the fact that in two weeks I will be forty. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Zap"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the Almighty. God snaps his fingers and he eliminates mothers from the grey hair gene and we all have shiny, lusterous locks that are the same color as the day we are born (unless we want to change our hair color and then it is our choice, not God's). And we don't turn 40. We stay 25 forever and look like we are 25. That is God's gift to us for bearing children.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Sleep&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;: How I miss a good night's sleep. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Zap"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the kids (they are hungry, their diaper is wet, they dropped their binky out of the crib). "Zap" the husband (he grinds his teeth and thrashes, pulling the covers all over the place). &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Zap"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the Almighty (he made me and while there are many flaws in my construction one of the biggest is being a light sleeper--everything and anything keeps me awake--and another is being a worrier so I stay awake worrying about things I have no control over). I now get a perfect night of sleep. I wake up refreshed and beautiful without bags under my eyes. My husband and children look at me each morning and remark on how beautiful I am. The Schwann's man even notices my refreshing, youthful appearance.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;In all seriousness, I just don't understand why our government is wasting time and money on things like this. There are so many more scientific issues that need attention. Like Breast Cancer. Like AIDS. Like SIDS. Like Global Warming. And I could just go on and on and on with this list but I won't because this blog entry is long enough as it is. Basically, it comes down to this. If the world of science and our government have time and money to invent vaccines that curb bad habits and games that prove we have selfish urges in unjust situations (duh..), well science and the government are just downright pathetic. Even this SAHM knows there are more important things to worry about in the world. Like kids and family.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Perhaps a good night's sleep, a steamy episode &lt;em&gt;Gray's Anatomy&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;Desperate Housewives&lt;/em&gt; or the &lt;em&gt;Young and the Restless&lt;/em&gt;, a box of Godiva chocolates, some hip new clothes, the latest and greatest novel in hardback and a Schwann's man is just what they need to get their priorities in order...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Funny Video of the Day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Very funny View skit.....not for kids!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wQ81bL7Cq6Y" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"The Best of Times" by Sarah Hickman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Black Coffee in Bed" by Squeeze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Mother and Child Reunion" by Paul Simon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Down by the Riverside" by Peter, Paul and Mary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Everyday People" by Sly and the Family Stone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Alice the Camel" by Crazy Praise, Volume 1&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-116057621292653196?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116057621292653196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116057621292653196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116057621292653196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116057621292653196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/10/zap.html' title='&quot;Zap&quot;'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116056554729453514</id><published>2006-10-11T06:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T07:43:28.103-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Snakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/Oct%2010%20303.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/Oct%2010%20303.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sam, playing at the park yesterday...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive--it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we know all about everything, would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;~Lucy Maud Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Henry had me up at 4:00 am and wouldn't let me go back to bed. He was wide awake. Today I had the pleasure of two extra hours at both ends--he let me go to bed at 9:30 and let me sleep until 6:00 this morning. So I'm well rested and that is making me happy. Motherhood is making me recognize the simple things in life that make me happy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's On My Mind Today&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snakes. I hate them. I mean really hate them. Raiders of the Lost Ark wasn't a great movie because of that scene where they are hanging over a pit of snakes. I had nightmares for years after seeing that movie. Last night I dreamed about snakes taking over my house. I can only attribute that to the fact that yesterday morning I found a snake in my stroller which was inside my screened-in porch. How peachy. Anyway, I freaked and called Dear Husband (name I am now calling my husband when he is being a good husband--i.e. ignoring all my clutter, fixing things around the house, watching the kids, etc. And by the way, he is "Dear Husband" just about every day of the week) and I was advised to leave the snake and stroller alone and if it was still there when he got home he'd kill it. So, I couldn't relax because I knew that snake had been one step closer to being inside my house and thus causing much undo anxiety. Needless to say, Dear Husband was the one who put the snake puzzle pieces together and figured out that the snake probably wanted to find somewhere warm to hang and the porch door is busted so it probably arrived in my house via the porch door. Now, let's talk about the porch door. Full of gaps in the frame that let bugs go in and out. At the top there is a gap big enough for a bird to come in (well, a small bird) if it wanted (and my husband wonders why I don't want to hang out on the porch with him and watch television). The people who owned this house before us didn't know how to hang a door so we are stuck with this crooked door with holes in the screen and a latch that doesn't hold. Friday morning the door was really put to the test when our dog, Gyro, decided to bust through the door and escape. She took with her our other dog, Ernie, and two cats. One of the cats was happy to be out and the other was scared stiff and most likely just followed along with the rest of the group and then realized he was out in the real world and not quite sure how to handle it. He is still getting over his adventure of Friday. I discovered this escape while sitting in my living room feeding Henry and gazing out the window over my cup of joe. While doing so, I noticed my two dogs running down the street barking after a man in a golf cart (we live near a golf course and some of our neighbors have their own personal golf carts that they drive past our house to get to the course). So, I put the baby down and had to chase my dogs half a block down the street to get them to come back. So that is how the screened-in porch door got to the point that a snake could get in. Not that it was a good door before Friday, but after the canine/feline escape fiasco, the door is worse. Now the good side of that is that Dear Husband might just see the light and get us a new door. New screens for the windows would be nice to but I think that is pushing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night the Raiders of the Lost Ark snake dreams returned. And on my mind today are snakes and what I am going to do if I encounter another one on my porch or anywhere in the vicinity of my house. I just hate them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Funny Video of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I really don't have anything against blondes...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/92llpgZLaRc" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm too overwhelmed with visions of snakes to list music today. Go to &lt;a href="http://www.itunes.com"&gt;iTunes&lt;/a&gt; and discover a new artist and/or song yourself. It is great fun...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-116056554729453514?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116056554729453514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116056554729453514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116056554729453514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116056554729453514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/10/snakes.html' title='Snakes'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-116040159587918713</id><published>2006-10-09T09:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-09T09:57:23.443-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Day in the Life of a SAHM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/My%20Photos/August252006059copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/My%20Photos/August252006059copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My son, Sam...getting ready for Halloween? He's actually going to be a dragon but he loves to play with these fuzzy ears!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space lies our freedom and power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and freedom. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;--Viktor Frankl&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My happiness today once again stems from my son, Henry. He is practically snot free. The bugger catcher is not on call full-time anymore. I only have to snag buggers once or twice a day now. So that is making me--and him--very happy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What's On My Mind...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I haven't blogged for a few days. I guess this is due to several factors:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've been busy...we spent all day Friday in State College and Saturday and Sunday just seemed to fly by way too fast.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm still constantly thinking about the Amish school house incident and that is probably because I wrote the editiorial (it did get published in case anyone is interested!) and it is on the news all the time. It still really bothers me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My mind has just been fried. Fried to the point of just wanting to lay on the floor and play cars with my son.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;So today, I'm not really in the thinking mood. On my mind is simply the day-to-day SAHM kind of things. Like these:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;What will I make for dinner? Ham loaf. Already out to thaw.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What will Sam eat for lunch? Nothing. He doesn't eat anymore.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How many loads of laundry can I get done today? I need to at least clean my clothes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why does my fridge sound like a waterfall? Dear Husband inspected it this morning, turned off the water going from the sink to the ice maker and went to work. I hope I don't have to call the Sears repairman. Last time they told me they'd come "sometime between 8:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m." Worse than the cable guy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why are their cigar ashes all over my screen in porch floor? Did Sam do this or did Dear Husband do this? I guess I have to clean it up...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kitchen floor is sticky again. I am developing a very close and personal relationship with my mop. Scary...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dear Husband cut the grass and depooped the backyard yesterday. I hope it is warm and sunny so Sam can go out and play.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Will both boys nap long enough that I can finish my book (number 11 in the Stephanie Plum series)? I hope so, this one is really good and I'm halfway done with it...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Will I have time to take a shower and shave my legs?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;So that is what is on my mind today...very intellectual and thought provoking things that I'm sure anyone reading this can relate to in some manner...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Funny Video of the Day: Can Blondes Change Tires?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/duPF1TmhV34"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/duPF1TmhV34" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Ramblin Man" by the Allman Brothers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy" by the Andrews Sisters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"I'd Like to Be" by the Banana Slug String Band&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Walk Like an Egpytian" by the Bangles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"It's Only a Paper Moon" by Benny Goodman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"The Applepicker's Reel" by Bill Staines&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Hello Dolly" by Bobby Darrin&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-116040159587918713?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/116040159587918713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=116040159587918713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116040159587918713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/116040159587918713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/10/another-day-in-life-of-sahm.html' title='Another Day in the Life of a SAHM'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/wetmiller/My%20Photos/th_August252006059copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115987272721787064</id><published>2006-10-03T06:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T10:08:19.126-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Angry at Life, Angry at God? Go Start Your Own Revolution!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/image2057166g.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/image2057166g.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Neighbors talk among themselves outside the Amish schoolhouse where a gunman on Oct. 2, 2006, killed three girls and critically injured seven others.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(AP Photo/Mary Altaffer)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Live Your Own Revolution"&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;quote from&lt;/em&gt; a &lt;em&gt;bumper sticker on a car at the Giant supermarket&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;On My Mind Today....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday when I heard the news about the school house massacre in Lancaster, I was in my car in the parking lot at the Giant supermarket. As I sat in the car and listened to the news update on the shooting and terror, something caught my eye. On the bumper of a car not far from where I was parked was a sticker that said "Live Your Own Revolution." This bumper sticker has been on my mind ever since I saw it. Ever since I heard about the children shot execution style in the one-room Amish school house.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We live in a region of Pennsylvania where many Amish live and live quietly. While not as populated with the Amish as nearby Lancaster county, we still share the road with the Amish buggies, shop with them at the local stores and witness their peaceful existence as we drive past their farms that are free of all things unnecessary (electricity, cars, iPods, computers, televisions, etc.). And it is peaceful to drive past their farms. For me it is often thought provoking. I often ask my husband questions like "What do you think it is like to live like they do?" "Why do they choose to live that way?" or "I wonder what they believe and what they think of us." So yesterday's tragedy hit close to home, physically and emotionally. Not that I have any emotional bonds with the local Amish. I don't know a one. But when you see them everyday and compare formula and diaper prices with them in Wal Mart, you can't help but identify with them when something like what happened yesterday invades their peaceful existence and shatters all sense of security.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So this bumper sticker annoyed me. Really annoyed me. &lt;strong&gt;"Live Your Own Revolution"&lt;/strong&gt; was not a good bumper sticker to have on your car on a day like yesterday, especially when your car is parked in the parking lot of a grocery store near where many Amish farms are located. &lt;strong&gt;"Live Your Own Revolution." &lt;/strong&gt;That is exactly what Charles Carl Roberts IV was doing. He was living his own revolution. AP wire reports that he was "angry at life, he was angry at God." What better reason to start your own revolution, right? Something is wrong when innocent children, especially children being raised in an Amish society, are shot execution style in their one-room school house just because some lunatic was "angry at life...angry at God." There are many days that I am angry at life and angry at God. Today I'm angry at life and angry at God for allowing this to have happened. Any mother whose child is overseas fighting in Iraq is probably angry at life and angry at God. Any mother whose child is in the hospital with cancer or some other terminal illness is probably angry at life and angry at God, too. And the mothers of the children who were killed and injured yesterday I'm sure are angry at life and angry at God, too. If everyone who was angry at life and angry at God acted upon it and decided to live their own revolution we would have total anarchy. It just isn't American to have such a bumper sticker on your car, especially on day when "living your own revolution" is taken literally and innocent children and adults are the victim of your revolution. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So this bumper sticker and, of course, the news out of Lancaster, really upset me. And I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop being angry about it all--the bumper sticker; the girls shot execution style; the Amish; the world we live in--the world where I am trying to raise two sons to know right from wrong. Starting your own revolution because you are angry at life and angry at God, well that is sadly becoming a way of life in America. Three deadly school shootings, including this one, occurred this week throughout the nation. Makes a mother scared to send her child to school...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When Thomas Jefferson said that "every generation needs a new revolution," I really doubt he meant for individuals to enter a school to terrorize and kill teachers and students for the reason that he/she is "angry with life, angry with God." This whole concept of "revolution" has been warped over the ages--warped to the extent that cars display bumper stickers that encourage us to start our own revolutions and leave it up to the reader to decide their own definition of "revolution," be it violent or peaceful. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When JFK said that "those who make peaceful revolution impossible, make violent revolution inevitable," he was right on the money. One man's revolution in Lancaster county is proof of just how inevitable violence is in our society.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-115987272721787064?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115987272721787064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115987272721787064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115987272721787064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115987272721787064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/10/angry-at-life-angry-at-god-go-start.html' title='Angry at Life, Angry at God? Go Start Your Own Revolution!'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115978462586087208</id><published>2006-10-02T05:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T06:36:35.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Habits?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/Henry%20Joseph%20Wetmiller%20Hospital%20Photos%20125%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/Henry%20Joseph%20Wetmiller%20Hospital%20Photos%20125%20copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Binky boy...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"In any family, measles are less contagious than bad habits." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook, 1960&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Happiness Today... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Henry's cold is better. The rainy parade set him back a bit. Not as much snot to suck out with the snot catcher. That is my happiness today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What I'm Thinking About...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In yesterday's paper (yes, our little small-town America paper) there was a syndicated article from the Chicago Tribune titled "New vaccines would immunize people against bad habits." Wow. Is this supernatural or what? Sounds too crazy to be true. Sounds like a series for the Sci Fi channel. Seriously though, if science can create such vaccines that would curb smoking, drug addiction and overeating, imagine the possibilities...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had the opportunity to give the scientists developing these vaccines my own two-cents (not likely since I'm &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; a SAHM), here is what I would suggest:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invent a vaccine to prevent people from...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;chewing with their mouth full of food&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;not washing their hands after using the "loo"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;watching football when their wives want to watch Masterpiece Theater on PBS&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;not spaying or neutering their cats and/or dogs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;talking loudly on their cell phone in public&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;driving, talking on their cell and eating while driving (all at the same time)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;littering, especially in playgrounds where kids (like mine) pick up the trash and think it is a snack or a toy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;planting fake flowers in their garden (yes, people actually do this)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;wearing clothes that are ten sizes too small for them and thinking that they actually look good and are turning heads (they're turning them, just the wrong way)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;driving in the left lane with no intention of passing anybody&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;talking during the movies, or worse, talking on their cell phone during a movie and not turning it to vibrate and letting it ring so the rest of the theater can hear it and their conversation&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;not flossing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;not flushing toilets in public--how disgusting is that? Yet it happens...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;not picking up their dog's poop when they do their business on the neighbor's lawn or in the local park or playground&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;thinking they don't need deodorant and acting upon it&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;installing sound systems in their car that vibrate so much and are so loud that you can feel (and hear) the car coming from a mile away&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;letting their kids run around with buggers on their sleeves--give them and teach them to use a tissue! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;not putting the shopping carts back in the stall after unloading the stuff into their car&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;ending a sentence with a preposition&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;not putting money in Santa's bucket when he is standing outside of Walmart in the freezing cold collecting money for the Salvation Army (afterall, it is the army of "God")&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;not reading to their kids or encouraging their kids to read (we need a literate society)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;going through the "express" line at the grocery store when there are more than the allotted number of items in their cart&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;These are just a few of my pet peeves that I really think the National Institutes of Health should pay attention to and invent a vaccine to prevent. Not that smoking, drug addiction and over eating aren't laudable habits to try and prevent. I just think they need to look at the big picture when it comes to bad habits because it would be a terrible thing to discriminate against those people with other bad habits that deserve a vaccine, wouldn't it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Funny Video of the Day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/G8PutCgGaDU" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Runaround Sue" by Dion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Do you believe in magic" by Lovin' Spoonful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Brown Eyed Girl" by Van Morrison&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Riding in My Car" by Woodie Guthrie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"There Ain't No Bugs on Me" by Jerry Garcia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Run Molly Run" by Sweet Honey and the Rock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"I Love to See You Smile" by Victor Johnson&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-115978462586087208?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115978462586087208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115978462586087208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115978462586087208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115978462586087208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/10/bad-habits.html' title='Bad Habits?'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115969990509723799</id><published>2006-10-01T06:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T07:23:36.726-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's On My Mind: October 1st</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/September%2028%20078%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/September%2028%20078%20copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My son, Sam...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. Which road do I take? she asked. Where do you want to go? was his response. I don't know, Alice answered. Then, said the cat, it doesn't matter."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;~Lewis Carroll&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My Happiness Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an earlier post I mentioned how doing laundry makes me happy. Well, this week I did laundry every single day. That gets tedious. Really tedious. Especially when you try and fold laundry with a toddler in the room. If you've never tried it, I don't suggest you start. The clean clothes and folded clothes end up all over the place and your child ends up with the laundry basket on his head. Well, today I am free of laundry. Not a dirty item of clothing needing immediate attention. So I am happy that today my washer and dryer won't be seeing me around...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What I'm Thinking About...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday we made it to the parade. It rained. The parade was late getting started. I didn't dress my kids warmly enough. I got wet. But it was all worth it because Sam got to see his first real fire truck and with the sirens going and the lights flashing. It made all the rain, the cold and the misery worth it. The look on his face when the fire engine drove towards us and then stopped in front of us (I strategically planted us on a corner where the parade would turn so that he would get to see things up close and personal) was totally worth the aggravation of getting two kids in the double stroller and waiting in the rain. If it wasn't raining I would have had my camera going and a picture of the experience posted today.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So this parade experience got me thinking about how many things in life I've missed because of rainy days. Rainy days almost always keep me inside, dry and warm. Same with snowy days. But by staying inside and avoiding discomfort I may be missing out on something fantastic and memorable. My "yes to life" phase is what brought me out in the rain yesterday and forced me to battle the double jog stroller for the first time in public and sit in the rain with my kids to watch a parade. The old me--you know, the one not turning 40 and contemplating life--would have stayed inside and convinced herself that there will be another parade, another firetruck and more marching bands on a sunny day in the future that will entertain my kids. But the new me (who has 26 days left until she is 40) wasn't going to wait for a sunny day and another opportunity for Sam to get up close and personal with a fire truck. So off we went in the rain to the parade. Because I said "yes to life" yesterday. And it felt good. It felt really good.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;SAHM Product I LOVE Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Despite my statements above about the double jog stroller, I must admit I love it. It is a great stroller. My parents bought it for me. It is the Baby Trend Expedition Double Jog. It is sturdy and easy to steer. Yes, it is big and bulky, but what can you expect with a double job stroller but big and bulky? It had a great cover that pulled out over the boys to keep the better part of them dry. And the seats recline all the way flat so that my infant son can ride in it. It also has two nicely sized baskets underneath the seats so when I go to the farmers market or shopping I've got plenty of room to stash my stuff. I love it...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;SAHM Product I Hate Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Powder formula. I hate it. I hate that I started using it. But it is cheaper and takes up less room on my kitchen shelves. I hate mixing it. I hate it when I don't mix it enough and there a clumps in the formula. That is what I hate today. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Head Over Heels" by Blue Rodeo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Peace Train" by Cat Stevens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Tuesday's Dead" by Cat Stevens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Stolen Moments" by John Hiatt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Guitar Town" by Steve Earl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Fiona" by Lyle Lovett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"If I Had a Boat" by Lyle Lovett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Funny Video of the Day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6G_xt1GNT4k" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-115969990509723799?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115969990509723799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115969990509723799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115969990509723799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115969990509723799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/10/whats-on-my-mind-october-1st.html' title='What&apos;s On My Mind: October 1st'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115961450581246579</id><published>2006-09-30T06:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T15:22:20.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's On My Mind: September 30th</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/September%2028%20094%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/September%2028%20094%20copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Lewis Carroll&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My Happiness Today... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to buy formula at Wal Mart without kids. Pretty pathetic, huh? Well, if you had two kids in diapers you'd understand how getting a chance to go the store--any store--without children to wrestle with in the cart is a treat. So that is my happiness today...my husband is watching the kids for 1/2 hour so I can buy formula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I'm Thinking About Today... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking about taking my kids to the local univeristy's homecoming parade. Thinking being the operative word. I have yet to tackle the double stroller in public, let alone fold it up and try and put it in the van. But there will be lots of floats, large character balloons and several marching bands. I know Sam would love it. And, of course, there would be the homecoming court. I never went to one homecoming dance during my high school career. Nor prom. I wasn't into that kind of stuff. I was into sports and my extent of involvement with homecoming was being in the marching band. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't a loser or anything. I wasn't ugly (at least I didn't think so). I was involved in things in high school. Things like swim team, marching band, orchestra, choir, school musicals, church youth group, etc. But dances just were never my thing. I only liked one guy in high school and he was never more than just a friend to me. My crush on him ruined me for other opportunities. So I watched him go to the prom and the homecoming dances with other girls. And yes, it bothered me, but it wasn't the end of the world. He's married now and has two kids. My mother didn't like him so it is a good thing he never liked me back. Thinking about high school is reminding me of my approaching 40th birthday. This isn't a good thing to be thinking about at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning. But thinking about going to a homecoming parade just brings back memories of my homecoming experiences from high school. And that makes me think of people I haven't thought about in a really long time. Like the guy I had a crush on that didn't like me back. He doesn't know what he is missing....at least that is what I'm telling myself this morning as I sit here contemplating my life as it was in high school. And I'm really glad I'm not in high school anymore. And I'm really glad he didn't like me back because in everyone's life there has to be someone that got away. There has to be someone that you hope to run into on a day you are looking fabulous (in other words, no formula stains on your shirt, you've had a shower, your makeup looks great, you've lost all the baby weight and more, you are having a good hair day and your beautiful children are there to show off and they are behaving and not smelling like poopy diapers or wearing spaghetti stains on their mouths). Everyone needs to have that chance. Everyone needs to have at least one high school crush to contemplate later in life (when you are approaching 40 and desperate to feel young again).... and make you feel happy he or she got away so you can be with the spouse you have and be a parent to the children you have. That's what I'm thinking about today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if I can just figure out how to collapse the double jog stroller and get it in the van...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;SAHM Product I LOVE Today... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;There is a company called the "&lt;a href="http://www.givinggallery.com/stores/1/individual.asp?SID=1&amp;Product_ID=2038&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;Category_ID=326&amp;subnavID=keeping"&gt;Good Home Company&lt;/a&gt;" that makes cleaning products. Expensive cleaning products. I don't use them they are so expensive. But I do use one of their products that isn't really a cleaning product and that is their vacum cleaner beads. I have the lavender scent. The cost is $13 for a bottle but you only use 12 -14 beads per vaccum bag and you get like 100 beads in a bottle. When you put in a new bag in your vacuum, you add more beads. Anyway, the way this works is the beads send off a great smell every time you vacuum. A smell that sticks around for awhile. It is a great product. Try it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;SAHM Product I Hate today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate my razor. I hate that I don't have time to shave my legs everyday. Doesn't matter what kind of razor it is because it sits in my shower and calls out to me to use it. But the screaming baby I hear despite the running water is calling me to come and hold him, change his diaper, feed him or burp him. So the razor gets ignored and I hate it. It is a constant reminder that I'm no longer the woman who shaves her legs (all the way up the thighs) and armpits every single day no matter what. I'm the kind of woman who is lucky she gets her hair and body washed daily. I'm a mother...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My iTunes MOM Picks of the Day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Today the music is all about me....I'm in a selfish mood! Here are some of my favorites from my iPod:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Meaning" by Gavin DeGraw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Collide" by Howie Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Secondhand Heart" by Will Hoge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Here Comes my Baby" by Cat Stevens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"My Dog &amp;amp; Me" by John Hiatt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Stumbling to Bethlehem" by Patti Scialfa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Bare" by Matt Nathenson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Better Days" by Rockwell Church&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"I'll Fly Away" by Jars of Clay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"One" by Tait &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Dark Clouds" by Soozie Tyrell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Till it Shines" by Lyle Lovett and Keb Mo&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-115961450581246579?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115961450581246579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115961450581246579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115961450581246579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115961450581246579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/whats-on-my-mind-september-30th.html' title='What&apos;s On My Mind: September 30th'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115935846345561658</id><published>2006-09-27T06:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T12:27:25.443-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's On My Mind: September 27th</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/September%2023%20038%20copy1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/September%2023%20038%20copy1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Henry...one of his first smiles &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;that I caught on camera!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"If your pictures aren't good enough, you're not close enough." ~Robert Capa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What's On My Mind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am officially one month away from my 40th birthday. One more month to say I'm not 40. I'm struggling with this issue. On one hand turning 40 seems like no big deal. My sister turned 40 and lived through it. My friend Heidi turned 40 and lived through it. Both don't even look like they are 40! On the other hand, turning 40 means entering a new decade, a new chapter of my life. Here are a few things that I figured out about turning 40:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'll have to color my hair more often. With two kids to send to college that means coloring it myself. And I am terrible at doing it. I get the color all over the place. Even when I drape old shower curtains all over the bathroom floor and cover the counters and any visible permanent fixture in my bathroom, I still find a spot with permanent color on it when I'm done. I'm going to have to start coloring my hair in the garage (and move the cars out into the driveway for fear of splashing them with a little permanent color).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Moisturizer morning and night will no longer be an option, it will be a necessity, as will eye cream.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tanning is only going to make me look even older than I am.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I am 55 years old my sons still won't be legally able to drink.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I am 60 years old Sam will have only been legally drinking for 7 months. I am sure he will illegally be drinking before that, at least if his dad has anything to say about it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Even though I lost the baby weight already from Henry I still am carrying about 15 pounds from Sam. Getting rid of that is going to get harder. I'm going to have to start to exercise. Yuck.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm going to have to have a yearly mammogram. The boob presser once a year. How awful is that?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The "big change" is closer than ever. No further explanation needed. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's Making Me Happy Today... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My cat, Homer, had to have half his body shaved because he had too many hair mats and they were too close to the skin to cut out. My husband has been calling him "baldy" and "kojak" for weeks. Well today I finally think his hair is starting to grow back. And that is making me happy because he is such a beautiful cat....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SAHM Product I Love Today &amp;amp; SAHM Product I Hate Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm not loving or hating anything related to being a SAHM today. Probably because someone told me yesterday that I didn't have a "job." It really upset me. Being a SAHM is a job and career just like any other job or career out there. In fact, it is harder than some. So today I'm upset about being a SAHM. Not because I question whether it is the right choice, but because other people (men in particular) don't appreciate what is given up and what is gained from being home with our children. I gave up a good career, steady pay, benefits, pension, daily interaction with adults, and, probably most important to me, I gave up being able to be a "contributor" to our family finances. Despite what my husband tells me, I feel it is "his" money and "his" decisions that count because I'm not bringing in a dime. But what did I gain? Aside from the negative attitude we SAHM often must deal with from other people who just don't get us and our decision, I gained a sense of accomplishment and pride through knowing that my children are safe, healthy and loved everyday by their mother in their own home, with their own toys and their own space, eating food I make and feed to them. I gained a sense of security in that I know where my children are at all times and that they are safe. I gained more than I lost. I just wish other people could understand what all this means--you know, the "big picture"...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here are a few links to some good articles on SAHMs:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homewiththekids.com/family/stay-home.php"&gt;Can you stay at home?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homewiththekids.com/family/time.php"&gt;Where DO you get the time?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homewiththekids.com/timeforparents.htm"&gt;At-Home Parents Need Time Too!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Skip to My Lou" by John McCutcheon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"World We Love" by Raffi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"See the Sea" by Michelle Shocked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Don't Fence Me In" by Harry Connick Jr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Beyond the Sea" by Bobby Darrin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Follow Me" by the Innocence Mission&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-115935846345561658?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115935846345561658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115935846345561658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115935846345561658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115935846345561658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/whats-on-my-mind-september-27th.html' title='What&apos;s On My Mind: September 27th'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115923615734236593</id><published>2006-09-25T21:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T08:33:20.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's On My Mind: September 26th</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/August%2022%202006%20033%20copy.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/August%2022%202006%20033%20copy.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sam at the local sprinkler playground this summer...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quote of My Day... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I will not die an unlived life. I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire. I choose to inhabit my days, to allow my living to open me, to make me less afraid, more accessible, to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise. I choose to risk my significance; to live so that which came to me as seed goes to the next as blossom and that which came to me as blossom, goes on as fruit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;."~Dawna Markova&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What's On My Mind Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was watching the sitcom "&lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/old_christine/"&gt;The New Adventures of Old Christine&lt;/a&gt;." Not sure if I really like the show that much but Henry was up and it was the only thing on that I could tolerate. It was one of the times when I needed a no-brainer kind of show to pass the time and keep me awake. Anyway, the show actually got me thinking. It was all about whether Christine (main character in case you don't watch the show) is the kind of person who says "yes to life." After the show was over I couldn't stop thinking about whether the "new" me--the SAHM--is a person who says "yes to life." This question was weighing heavy on my mind since I turn 40 next month. So, after thinking about it, I must be truthful and say that I don't know the answer! Who would think that a sitcom on television would provoke such introspection...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here are a few rambling thoughts for and against my being a person who says "yes to life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Yes to Life"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my husband.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I gave birth to two beautiful boys. When fertility treatments failed after four years of trying I didn't give up. I kept trying. And then the miracle of life happened (twice!)unassisted by technology and medicine.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love animals (hence my two dogs and three cats). Despite what my husband may think, my cats and dogs have not taken a back seat now that we have kids. I love them all as much today as I did before Sam and Henry came along.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I embrace all things artistic--I may not always act upon it, but I appreciate and I'm easily inspired by music, books, art, etc. Especially photography...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I love and care about something, I love and care about it/him/her deeply.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am not afraid to express my emotions. I cry at movies. I cry at night sometimes after checking on my kids sleeping because they are so precious and I love them so much. Poetry, good poetry that is, can bring a tear to my eye. Memories always choke me up. I'm a cryer.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've made new friends and I like meeting people. Moving to a small town was hard. I got involved with a local &lt;a href="http://www.momsclub.org/"&gt;MOMS Club &lt;/a&gt;and found some friends. And I know they are friends. I actually have more friends now than I did when I lived in the big city. And what is important is that I know deep down these are good friendships. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"No to Life"...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I haven't seen a movie that was nominated for an academy award in an actual movie theater in two years. It used to be my mission to see every movie nominated in the best drama catagory.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I used to wear makeup all the time. Not around the house or anything. But if I was going out where there was the slightest chance I'd run into someone I would know, I'd have on makeup. Not a lot of makeup but enough so that I looked decent. My makeup hasn't been used in so long I should probably throw it out because it is expired or contaminated with some kind of deadly germ. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I used to drive a really cool car, a Saab. Now I drive a mini-van. No need for further explanation...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I used to attend poetry readings. In town tonight is the first famous (in other words, actually published a book and went on a book tour) poet I ever heard at a poetry reading, Carolyn Forche. Fabulous poet. Incredible poetry. I can barely stay awake past 8:00 at night let alone go to a poetry reading! But how I would love to hear her read again...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm terrible at returning phone calls. I'm terrible at answering the phone (there might be someone on the other end!). The phone is like the world invading my home, my life. Not answering it is definitely one for the "no to life" list.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I used to like the beach. Now I like pools. And I have to have a lounge chair. Sitting in the sand on a towel just doesn't work for me anymore.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Too often I care more about taking pictures and making sure I "get the shot" than I do about enjoying the experience or moment.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I used to listen to music all the time--in the house and the car. Now I listen to talk radio or news in the car and the only music being played on my iPod is music I download for my kids. My cd collection is in boxes collecting dust and waiting for me to catalog them for an ebay sale.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't recycle and I don't eat leftovers. I'm a terrible human being....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't have a garden. I kill plants just by looking at them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't go to church yet some of my favorite music and bands are labeled "christian" or "inspirational." How hypocritical is that?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have relationship struggles within my family that I ignore. Perhaps because I find addressing these struggles to be painful and I hate pain and anquish so I choose to ignore. Or perhaps I've given up and deep down I know fixing things just isn't going to happen in this lifetime and I have to accept things the way they are and move on.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't pluck my eyebrows or have them waxed on a regular schedule. Having a job where I went to an office and actually interacted daily with humans over the age of 2 was a real boost for personal grooming. I say that because now that I stay at home with children things like plucking my eyebrows or having them waxed in a salon (wow, wouldn't that be nice?) are very rare occassions. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't watch the news or keep up on what is going on in the world. Whether this is because deep down I find it all depressing or because I don't have time, I'm not sure. Probably a little of both. My dad keeps me posted on all things political and all things republican.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;It looks to me like the "no to life" list is winning. Well, it looks like I have a new project--learn to say "yes to life" more often so the yes list catches up with the no list. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What is Making Me Happy Today... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I made a good pot of coffee this morning. That is what is making me happy (and keeping me awake)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;SAHM Product I Love Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mrsmeyers.com/"&gt;Mrs. Meyers &lt;/a&gt;cleaning products. In addition to the Fuller line of products, I like the Meyers cleaning products for cleaning because they are are made with natural essential oils, are biodegradable and phosphate-free, and never tested on animals. I like the "geranium" scent. I use the multi-purpose cleaner, the kitchen sink scrub and the dryer sheets. Everything smells great when I've used Mrs. Meyers stuff. Try it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;SAHM Product I Hate Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm going to start saying "yes" to life, I should probably not hate anything today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I mentioned in my "no" list that I like a lot of "inspirational" music. Today I pick some of my favorites to share....tunes both me and my son, Sam, like!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Remember Me" by Mark Schultz (was sung at Henry's baptism)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Sing Alleluia" by Jennifer Knapp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"All I Need" by Bethany Dillon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Stand Up" by Everyday Sunday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"I'm Thankful" by David Bailey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"The Gathering" by Caedmon's Call&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"God Believes in You" by Pierce Pettis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"There is a River" by Jars of Clay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Sunny Days" by Jars of Clay&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-115923615734236593?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115923615734236593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115923615734236593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115923615734236593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115923615734236593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/whats-on-my-mind-september-26th.html' title='What&apos;s On My Mind: September 26th'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115918624683473426</id><published>2006-09-25T07:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T11:36:48.106-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's on My Mind: September 25th</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/September%2023%20031%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 210px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 281px" height="369" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/September%2023%20031%20copy.jpg" width="266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My son, Sam, waiting at the window for Daddy to come home...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;"One of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries." &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A. A. Milne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What's On My Mind Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The other day I wrote about being invaded by binkies. Today it is cars and trucks. They are everywhere. All over my livingroom. In my bathtub. In my bed (I often roll over on one late at night). In my car (a very nice collection has developed on the floor of the mini-van). I guess having one son, and now two, means living with cars and trucks in my life. But they are everywhere and I am afraid I have an addiction for buying more and more cars and trucks for Sam. It is just so much fun. There is this great discount store here in town called Ollie's. They have everything you can think of, from pickles to ladders. My sister-in-law says that if a truck is flying down the highway and the back opens up and stuff falls out it ends up on the shelf at Ollie's. Anyway, this week they are having a huge toy buy-out sale. I got Sam a Harley with a sidecar for $4.99. He already has two motorcycles but what the heck, this is a Harley (with a sidecar to boot). The reason I bring all this up is that my house is already cluttered with my stuff and that drives my husband crazy. Now we add the cars and trucks to the mix and I am just waiting for my husband to go insane with the clutter. I really believe that clutter says a lot about a person. In a positive way, I think clutter sends off a signal that lets you know you are alive, you are involved and you are human. Negatively speaking, I think clutter can lead people to believe you are disorganized, a slob and that you have a constant need to be surrounded by your belongings. Books are a really good example of the kind of clutter that I view as positive but my husband just doesn't understand. I love books. I love being surrounded by my books. I always have at least three books on my nightstand in case I finish a book late at night and need to choose a new one to start reading. I have a lot of books, I admit. They are my friends (move to a small town where you know no one and you would call your books your friends, too). To get rid of them or box them up and put them in the attic is unthinkable to me but a really good idea to my husband. There are two types of books in my house: the books you read and save forever (like poetry and the classics...) and books you buy at the used book store and pass on to a friend or relative (or goodwill) after you're finished reading them. I've got a lot of both. Just as my son has a lot of cars. He has cars he can't live without like his mini-cooper, John Deere tractor, red corvette, big dump truck, garbage truck, etc. These cars tend to be very realistic. And he has cars that will no doubt end up at the goodwill after Henry is through with them (the plastic cars that are unrealistic and don't have all the bells and whistles). My poor husband. Between my books and other items that clutter the house he now must contend with toys and the fact that his son, Sam, is a lot like his mother. He has his cars and I have my books. Sam also loves books and leaves them all over the house and takes them to bed with him. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just hope Henry ends up being a neat freak like his dad...he needs someone on his side. The neat side.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What is Making Me Happy Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Henry slept through the night for the first time. He went to sleep at around 10:00 and didn't wake up until 6:00. I actually got a really good night sleep so I am happy about that today.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SAHM Product I Love Today&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.drugstore.com/products/prod.asp?pid=148010&amp;catid=9333&amp;amp;trx=PLST-0-SEARCH&amp;trxp1=9333&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;trxp2=148010&amp;trxp3=1&amp;amp;trxp4=0&amp;amp;btrx=BUY-PLST-0-SEARCH"&gt;Baby Saline&lt;/a&gt;. Yep, I love it. Can't live without it. Just discovered it at CVS and now it is helping me get the snot out of Henry's nose. And there is a lot of snot...Henry is now sleeping in the bathroom with the vaporizer going full steam ahead. Hopefully this cold will not lead to an ear infection and that Sam doesn't get it as bad as Henry has it...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;SAHM Product I Hate Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nothing to hate today, even though it is Monday. Perhaps as the day progresses I'll find something that annoys me and repost..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"The Bowling Song" by Asleep at the Wheel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Minuet in G" by Brainy Baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"All Mama's Children" by Carl Perkins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"I Think I Might Be a Dog" by Daddy a Go Go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Malti" by Dan Zanes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"King Kong Kitchie" by Dan Zanes&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-115918624683473426?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115918624683473426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115918624683473426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115918624683473426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115918624683473426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/whats-on-my-mind-september-25th.html' title='What&apos;s on My Mind: September 25th'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115909427462419242</id><published>2006-09-24T06:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-24T14:54:24.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's on My Mind: September 24th</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/September%2023%20058%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/September%2023%20058%20copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My son, Henry...snot free&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"What a splendid day!... I pity people who aren't born yet for missing it."&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Lucy Maud Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What's On My Mind Today... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving to a small town in a largely rural area of Pennsylvania has been a challenge for me. Don't get me wrong..I love my life here. I just haven't gotten used to some of the small-town America idiosyncrasies. For example, in our weekly county paper there is a posting for an upcoming event that I just don't understand, yet I find it terribly funny. &lt;strong&gt;Meat Bingo&lt;/strong&gt;. Yes, you read that correctly. "Meat Bingo." Now, what in the world is Meat bingo? No explanation provided in the paper as I can only assume the editor expects all readers to know what Meat bingo is. Well, this reader doesn't and I am very curious. When you get bingo do you get a pork chop? a leg of lamb? a pound of ground beef? Meat bingo is not the only thing that makes me stop and ponder small-town life. Here are a few more things that I've yet to figure out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chicken and Waffles&lt;/strong&gt;: What exactly do you get when you attend one of the many Chicken and Waffle dinners around here? Where I come from we just put syrup on our waffles. Around here they put chicken. And I can't for the life of me picture how that looks in my mind. If I didn't have two kids in diapers I'd attend one of the many Chicken Waffle dinners around here and find out. The next one is September 30th in case you are interested...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pig Stomach Dinner&lt;/strong&gt;: Now this is just disgusting. I saw a posting for this over the summer when my parents were visiting. We all could not believe what we were reading. Yes, some church or organization actually had a "pig stomach" dinner. If this is an attempt to raise money for some organization or church, perhaps a different menu would produce better results because the idea of even entering a building where pig stomachs are being cooked, let alone eaten, just makes me want to cringe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Square Dancing Tractors&lt;/strong&gt;: Again, you read that right. A few weeks ago there was a local festival and the paper had an article about a group of people who actually square dance on their tractors. Now, they don't stand on top of their tractors and do the Virginia Reel. The tractors are the ones doing the square dancing and the people are just driving the tractors. Now this was something I really wish I could have seen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Little Miss Bean&lt;/strong&gt;: At the local "Bean Soup Festival" they crowned a little girl "Little Miss Bean 2006." Would you enter your daughter in a contest where, if she won, she'd be labeled a bean? I guess it would depend on the kind of bean. I'm also curious as to what the winning girl had to do to be crowned Little Miss Bean. Did she make a great pot of bean soup? Did she shell the most beans in the shortest amount of time? Did she eat the most bowls of baked beans? Makes me wonder....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;So these are just a few things I am thinking about today. Perhaps next week I'll have more small town life "moments" to share...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is Making Me Happy Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I get to start a new book! That is what is making me happy. I finished "Hard Eight" by Janet Evanovich and I am now moving on to the next book in the Stephanie Plum series, "To the Nines." This has to be the longest period of time in the past 30 years that I didn't finish a book in less than a week. As stated in an earlier post, before two kids I often finished a book a day as I prefer reading to doing just about anything. So I am very happy to be starting a new book. There is something exciting about picking up a book and getting started. Just as there is often a sadness for me when I am reading an incredibly good book and I am almost finished. I don't want it to end. But today I am happy and I hope this afternoon I'll get a break while the boys nap to start my new book...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SAHM Product I Love Today&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuller Cleaning Products. I just love them. Every product I've tried I like. Here are a few that I can't live without now that I've tried them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fullerdirect.com/products_detail.asp?cat=1&amp;subcat=3&amp;amp;ID=573&amp;pg=1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;D.C. Polisher&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;: A mop that you attach terry cloth covers to and mop away. Great for quick mopping after kids have thrown food all over the floor and even the dog can't get the stickiness to go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fullerdirect.com/products_detail.asp?cat=1&amp;amp;subcat=3&amp;id=1063"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Multi-Floor Cleaner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;: This is a spray that I use with my favorite mop. It is safe for my laminate floors and that is mainly where I use it. Smells great and is safe for my kids and pets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://http://www.fullerdirect.com/products_detail.asp?cat=1&amp;amp;subcat=5&amp;id=567"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Microwave Oven Cleaner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;: Fantastic. Gets off all the gunk that hardens on the roof of the microwave. Nice smell and no bad chemicals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fullerdirect.com/products_detail.asp?cat=1&amp;amp;subcat=6&amp;id=232"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Super Spot Remover&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;: Great for carpet stains...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fullerdirect.com/products_detail.asp?cat=1&amp;amp;subcat=3&amp;amp;id=193"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Super Foam Rug Cleaner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;: I Like this for my carpets, too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;SAHM Product I Hate Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the snot-sucker. You know, that bulb syringe thing you shove up your baby's nose to catch the snot? Well, I hate it. I hate using it. I hate the reaction of my kids when I use it. Of course it is a bad reaction. Who would want someone sticking something up their nose and sucking stuff out? I'm sure I'm not the only mother who wishes their children were born being able to blow their nose. Infants and toddlers with colds make for a SAHM miserable day. Between squirting saline up their noses to sucking out the snot, it is miserable. The only way I can catch the snot from Sam is to do it after he is done eating and strapped into his high chair. And it is still amazing that I come away without black and blue marks from all the kicking he does throughout the whole process. But what are my alternatives? If I give him cold medicine he is a zombie and his sleep pattern gets out of whack. And I don't want to give him medicine. Same with Henry, although medicine for him isn't even an option as he is only 8 weeks old. So today will be another day of catching snot. What a fun way to spend a Sunday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day...&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Today I am picking soothing music in the hopes that I will play these tunes and my kids will either take a nap or go to bed tonight and stay asleep...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning" by Frank Sinatra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Smile" by Lyle Lovett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Love's Lullaby" by Cosey Sheridan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"You Can Close Your Eyes" by James Taylor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"You Belong to Me" by Jason Wade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"You are My Sunshine" by Sarah Hickman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Moonshadow" by Sarah Hickman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"The Wind" by Cat Stevens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-115909427462419242?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115909427462419242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115909427462419242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115909427462419242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115909427462419242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/whats-on-my-mind-september-24th.html' title='What&apos;s on My Mind: September 24th'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115892148465434736</id><published>2006-09-22T05:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T16:48:36.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's On My Mind: September 22nd</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/September%2017%20010%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/September%2017%20010%20copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;My son, Sam, after he went swimming with his clothes on this past weekend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." --&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Lewis Carroll&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What's On My Mind Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Yesterday I had a few hours to myself since the sitter came for the afternoon. After I got through the mundane tasks like grocery shopping, post office (sold maternity clothes on ebay!) and other errands, I parked myself on a couch (they moved the furniture around and I don't like where they put my favorite couch) at the local coffee house, The Kind Cafe, and played around with some photos in Photoshop. The photo I posted today is one of them. Anyway, while sitting on the couch with my sacred cup of coffee (real cream in it), I people watched from behind my laptop screen. Here are a few of my observations after an hour of watching college students from our&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.susqu.edu/"&gt;local university&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Fashion&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; What are some of these girls/women thinking? I just don't get the low-rider jeans that fail to do anything but show off a roll of fat around their middle and the thong underwear straps. And then there is the tight shirt that reveals the pierced belly button that is visible because of those fabulous low-rider, way-too-tight jeans. Seeing this display of stomach overhang makes me feel really good about my post-pregnancy stomach. Do these girls know that if I were to put on those jeans I wouldn't have that much flab hanging over my belt? Another thing I noticed that blows my mind: Platform shoes. Again, what are they thinking? These have got to be some of the ugliest styled shoes a woman could wear. But just about every pair of feet that strolled past my couch was engulfed in a pair of these ugly shoes. The worst were the platform maryjanes. Yes, my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dansko.com/Home.aspx"&gt;Dansko&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;clogs (I own several pair and live in them throughout the fall and winter) are slightly elevated but this is has something to do with the way the clogs are meant to be healthy for your feet. The platform shoes I was exposed to were unhealthy in every way and if one of these girls took a fall she'd surely break her leg because of these stupid shoes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Language&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; The f-bomb was flying--I mean FLYING--around the place. Every conversation within earshot of me was throwing it around. I just don't get it. There needs to be an f-bomb monitor installed in this place to register just how many people have determined this appropriate language for an everyday, casual conversation. I save the f-bomb for when I am thoroughly pissed off. If you use it everyday in every conversation, as I witnessed yesterday, it loses its effect. It no longer becomes "that word" that lets the world know you are the most pissed-off, mother of two kids in diapers in town...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Cell Phones&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; Every single person had one and just about all of them were ringing terrible music. Thankfully not at the same time. Now that cell phones are also MP3 players we all get the opportunity to be exposed to the owner's taste in music whether we want to or not. And of course the music has to be extremely loud with poor sound quality as cell phones are hardly in stereo. And what is with this constant need for people to talk loudly on their cell phones? Do they really think the rest of us in the place want to hear their conversation or learn about what is going on in their sex life? And of course the cell phones just added to the f-bomb situation...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So my observations of yesterday's coffee house experience are what I am thinking about today. I realized that I don't care if my clothes aren't in style--I have the responsibility to keep the public from viewing my post-pregnancy body. I have a responsbility to the world to not show off my butt-crack. And, for those of you who are interested, I don't wear thong underwear--too uncomfortable and the view of my behind in them is just not a good one. I am proud I don't use the f-bomb in every conversation I have, both public and private. I'm a mother. Mom's just shouldn't do that. And I don't care if my cell phone just rings Ring Number 2 from Motorola. I don't even know how to change the ring on my phone, let alone download music to it. And it hardly ever rings because afterall I'm a stay-at-home-mom and the only calls I get are from my husband or my sitter if something is wrong with my kids. So since it doesn't ring I don't even get the chance to talk on it loudly in public so the rest of the coffee shop can find out that I need to stop at the store and pick up coffee creamer on my way home or that my kid has a cold and I need to stop at CVS and buy a new snot catcher (I melted the old one in the microwave when I attempted to sterilize it). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So all of this is what is on my mind today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What is Making Me Happy Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today I am feeling very fulfilled because &lt;a href="http://abc.go.com/primetime/greysanatomy/index"&gt;Grey's Anatomy &lt;/a&gt;started a new season last night and, for the most part, I got to watch it. Between Hank crying and fussing and my husband munching pretzels extremely loud in bed right next to me, I still managed to watch most of the show, at least the important parts like at the end when Dr. McDreamy confesses that he loves Meredith. Now this is where the indecision on my part comes in. I really like the character Christopher O'Donnell plays and kind of want him to win in this fight for Meredith. It should be an interesting season...and it should keep me happy every Friday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;SAHM Product I Love Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My pick for today is the "&lt;a href="http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=2401509&amp;cp=2255976.2256088.2256094&amp;amp;parentPage=family"&gt;Safer Bather&lt;/a&gt;." This bath cushion is fantastic. I used it with Sam when he was an infant and now I am enjoying it once again with Hank. It is basically a cushion that the baby lays on while getting a bath. It fits in the kitchen sink perfectly and you just wring it out and hang it to dry when you're finished. It is made of this mold and mildew resistant material but I still wash it once a week in the washer and dry it to make sure I'm not providing a home to any unwanted germs or bacteria. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;SAHM Product I Hate Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Anti-bacterial soap. It makes my hands so dry! With two kids and lots of diapers to change, I wash my hands constantly. I used anti-bacterial soap because the parenting magazines all tell me to. There is no point in using moisterizer after each handwash because it seems within 10 or 15 minutes I am washing my hands again. Today my knuckles are cracked and bleeding. So I'm not liking anti-bacterial soap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My iTunes Kids Picks of the Day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"How Much is that Doggy in the Window" by Patti Page (Sam likes to bark to this song)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"LaBamba" by Los Lobos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Let Your Light Shine Out" by Ralph Stanley&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Maple Leaf Rag" Scott Joplin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Rock Around the Clock" by Bill Haley and the Comets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Song of the South" by Alabama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-115892148465434736?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115892148465434736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115892148465434736' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115892148465434736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115892148465434736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/whats-on-my-mind-september-22nd.html' title='What&apos;s On My Mind: September 22nd'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115880153136983565</id><published>2006-09-20T20:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T12:24:38.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I'm Thinking About: September 21st</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/August%2022%202006%20021%20copy.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/August%2022%202006%20021%20copy.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My son, Sam, playing at the local sprinkler playground this summer...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caffeine is my shepherd; I shall not doze.&lt;br /&gt;It maketh me to wake in green pastures.&lt;br /&gt;It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses.&lt;br /&gt;It restoreth my buzz.&lt;br /&gt;It leadeth me in the paths of consciousness for its name's sake.&lt;br /&gt;Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of addiction,I will fear no Equal™:&lt;br /&gt;For thou art with me; thy cream and thy sugar they comfort me.&lt;br /&gt;Thou preparest a carafe before me in the presence of The Starbucks.&lt;br /&gt;Thou anointest my day with pep.&lt;br /&gt;My mug runneth over.&lt;br /&gt;Surely richness and taste shall follow me all the days of my life:&lt;br /&gt;And I will dwell in the House of Mochas forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;~Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What I'm Thinking About Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm thinking about coffee. I have had a love/hate relationship with coffee for years. I never started drinking it until my waitressing days in college. And it has always been something I could live with or live without, depending on the status of my life at the moment. Like pregnancy and during infertility treatments. No coffee. Did I mind? No. I missed it but managed to keep my sanity. But now that I'm not pregnant I am drinking it again, perhaps because I like it and also because I need help waking up every morning. And now that I'm drinking it again, the on-sale Maxwell House or Folgers isn't cutting it. I fear I am becoming a coffee snob. I'm already a coffee-creamer snob in that I have to have half and half. Not whole milk. Not the fake flavored creamer. Not the fat-free half and half. I need the real thing or I won't have a cup of coffee. Sort of like diet Coke. I go out to eat and when the waitress asks what I'd like to drink I always ask "Do you have Pepsi or Coke?" If she says Pepsi, I order iced tea. So I am dreading the idea that my coffee drinking habits might be catching up with my diet coke and cream habits. And it certainly doesn't help that there is a Dunkin Donuts within a mile of my house. My car seems to go on autodrive towards the drive-thru there. I love Dunkin Donuts coffee. Not only do they have great coffee, when you order coffee with extra cream they give you the perfect amount of extra cream. And it is the real stuff, not whole milk. I actually don't get coffee outside of the house very often because it is very hard to balance an infant carrier on one arm, hold a cup of steamin hot Java and manage a toddler. Coming from the big city (Pittsburgh, which is big compared to where I live now) to a small town meant giving up Starbucks. That hurt. A lot. I loved Starbucks. From the way it smelled when you walked in the door to the cool couches and interesting looking people hanging out drinking coffee, reading the paper or chatting it up with friends (in person or on their cell). We have a really nice coffee house in our town, the Kind Cafe, and they have excellent organic coffee. But it is not the same as Starbucks. Perhaps that is good. This is rural Central Pennsylvania where I share the road with Amish buggies. Starbucks just doesn't seem appropriate somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 5:30 a.m. and Henry has me up. And I am thinking about coffee. I think I'll go brew a pot...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What is Making Me Happy Today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;A friend of mine told me to view the hours in the middle of the night when you get up with your baby as "special time" between you and your baby, especially if you have other children and one-on-one time with your new baby is infrequent compared to what it was with your first child at that age. So I am up in the middle of the night. Henry's nose is stuffed up and the snot-catcher isn't catching anything. But believe it or not I'm happy about this because yesterday Sam was not feeling well and needed most of my attention. So this time, even though I'm tired and in need of sleep, is for Henry. It makes me happy that I can have this time with him, even though it involves bugger catching and failed attempts at getting a burp out of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;The SAHM Product I Love Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am changing the title of this section because I realized that most of the things I want to rant or rave about are not necessarily just for babies. For example, yesterday it was velcro. The day or so before that it was carpet cleaner. Today it is my &lt;a href="http://www.sebo-vacuums.com/"&gt;vacuum cleaner&lt;/a&gt;. I love it. It is my friend. I use it just about every day. It gets up all the dog and cat hair that I lead it to. It hasn't broken down since we bought it in 2001. And I know when we bought it because it was on September 11th. So September 11th may have been one of the worst days in the history of our country, but in terms of my carpets, it was a banner of a day. The Sebo is a german-engineered vacuum and that is the reason it is so terrific, at least according to my husband, lover of all things mechanical from Germany such as the Mercedes Benz. So today I love my vacuum cleaner. And today or tomorrow new vacuum cleaner bags are coming in the mail. And it will be another banner of a day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The SAHM Product I Hate Today&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I am too sleep deprived at the moment to think of something I hate...maybe later becuase there is bound to be something that gets on my nerves by the end of the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Would You Like to Swing on a Star" by Maria Muldaur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out" by Cat Stevens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Weave Me the Sunshine" by Peter Paul and Mary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Dreamland" by Mary Chapin Carpenter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Here Comes the Sun" by Bob Khaleel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Sugar Magnolia" by the Grateful Dead&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-115880153136983565?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115880153136983565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115880153136983565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115880153136983565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115880153136983565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-im-thinking-about-september-21st.html' title='What I&apos;m Thinking About: September 21st'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115876938282140304</id><published>2006-09-20T11:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T16:38:30.256-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I'm Thinking About: September 20th</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"Don't tell your kids you had an easy birth or they won't respect you. For years I used to wake up my daughter and say, 'Melissa you ripped me to shreds. Now go back to sleep." &lt;em&gt;Joan Rivers&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What I'm Thinking About Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be truthful, I'm not thinking about much today. Usually I read something in the paper or experience something that gets me thinking. Today that just didn't happen. It has been an ordinary kind of day. Days like that are great. Nothing to think of, including worries or bad things. So I'm thinking about nothing today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What is Making Me Happy Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naps are making me very happy today. Both my boys are taking a nap and as soon as I post this blog I'm going to take one, too! I found these three quotes in my stash (I keep several folders on my computer that contain pages and pages of quotes about just about anything you could think of that relates to life!) and I hope that they will make you as happy as I am about taking a nap:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;“There is more refreshment and stimulation in a nap, even of the briefest, than in all the alcohol ever distilled.”--Edward Verrall Lucas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Consciousness: That annoying time between naps.”--Steven Wright&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Without enough sleep, we all become tall two-year-olds." ~JoJo Jensen, Dirt Farmer Wisdom, 2002&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Baby Product I Love Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Velcro. Yes, I love velcro. Not a baby product, but a product found on many baby items such as shoes. Sam is going through a stage where he cannot stand to have us put on his shoes and socks. Actually, any form of clothing is a battle waiting to happen. When the weather was warmer we could get by with him wearing his crocks (those plastic clogs with holes in them--ugly but cute at the same time), but now that the weather is starting to chill we need socks and real shoes. Trying to put on one sneaker and get it tied is a challenge but two is out of the question with Sam. So I bought this &lt;a href="http://www.target.com/gp/detail.html/ref=br_1_6/602-1620376-4844669?%5Fencoding=UTF8&amp;frombrowse=1&amp;amp;asin=B000F6UOSC"&gt;cute pair of shoes at Target &lt;/a&gt;that have two velcro straps. Now all I have to do is get the socks on and his feet in the shoe and from there we're basically off and running. At least until he figures out how to undo the velcro straps and start taking off his shoes in odd places like the grocery store....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baby Product I Hate Today&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Once again, not a baby product, but one you must have if you have a baby. That would be batteries. I hate them. I am buying them constantly. They constantly lose their juice and I have to replace them in Sam's toys. Until I was a mother I never realized how many toys require batteries. And I never thought that a screwdriver would be required to change a battery. My husband told me the first time I remarked about needing a screwdriver that this was so the kids couldn't get at the batteries and swallow them. I guess he is right. But a size C or D (the size most toys seem to require) battery going down a child's throat? I find that quite impossible. I think I am going to boycott battery replacement and see if Sam even notices that his garbage truck doesn't beep when it goes backwards or his pretend cell phone doesn't repeat "Mommy's Calling" over and over and over and over...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My iTunes Kids Picks of the Day&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"We Are Family" by Sister Sledge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Monster Mash" by Bobby "Borris" Pickett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Tequila" by The Champs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Just Can't Get Enough" by Depeche Mode&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"There Ain't No Bugs on Me" by Jerry Garcia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Yes, We Have No Bananas" by Louis Prima&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-115876938282140304?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115876938282140304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115876938282140304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115876938282140304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115876938282140304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-im-thinking-about-september-20th.html' title='What I&apos;m Thinking About: September 20th'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115860789759491867</id><published>2006-09-18T15:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T16:45:42.683-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I'm Thinking About: September 19</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/April%202004%20141.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px" height="193" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/200/April%202004%20141.jpg" width="315" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;My husband tells me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;our &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;dog, Gyro, feels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;neglected now that&lt;br /&gt;we have two kids. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So I post her picture &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;today &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;to make her (and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;him) feel better...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience."&lt;br /&gt;--Emily Dickinson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I'm Thinking About Today... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Ecstatic experiences. Until today I never really thought about them. What exactly would be considered an ecstatic experience? For some I guess this type of experience would be climbing Mt. Everest or skydiving. So I thought about this for awhile and I realized two things: 1) I am able to find the ecstatic in the ordinary; and 2) I don't want to be the kind of person who needs to skydive or climb the highest mountain in the world in order to have an ecstatic experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is my list of what I classify as a few of my "ecstatic experiences" now that I am a mother...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note: this is a random list and the order of the experiences is insignificant (except number one)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting married&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Days when my husband gives me the afternoon to go see a movie&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Having two sons after failed infertility treatments (i.e. "on our own")&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting a new floor in my hallway and bathroom&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting a mini-van when my husband had determined us to be "non-minivan" people&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Having my son, Sam, meet his great-great grandmother, Teed, before she died at the age of 100, just a few months shy of her 101st birthday&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting dinner on the table, two kids fed, bathed and in bed without a major meltdown (them or me).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Making a great playlist on iTunes and watching my son dance to the tunes in the livingroom&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finishing a book in a day&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finishing a chapter in a book in a day&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finishing a page in a book in a day&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Beating my mother at scrabble (rarely happens)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Winning a game of Spider solitare on the difficult level&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Capturing a great shot of my children with my camera&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Grocery shopping alone, without children in the cart&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting to watch one of my shows (Gray's Anatomy, Rescue Me, Desperate Housewives, Men in Trees--new show!--) without a child or husband needing me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Having a husband who loves to clean my car&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Still having a cat that loves to cuddle me even after I brought two kids into his world&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting a few really good burps out of Henry after he drinks a bottle&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Reading late at night in the quiet stillness of the night with my cat on my lap&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What is Making Me Happy Today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This video, snagged from another &lt;a href="http://kissesofsunshine.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;, is making me very happy. It is just too funny! Anyone who has a boy needs to see this. Check it out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q5jVNsiM4IU" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Baby Product I Love Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Once again, this product doesn't really classify as a baby product but I use it because I have babies (and dogs, and cats), so I think it counts. Today I really like "Spot Shot." It is a great stain remover for carpet. Gets out milk dribble spots on my carpet from when Sam throws his sippy cup around. Gets out drool spots (both dog and kid drool). Gets out puke (dog, cat and kid puke). Gets out coffee dribbles (husband). Basically, it is a great product and today I love it because after I ran the vacuum cleaner I went around hitting all the stains with my Spot Shot. Now the can is empty. Another thing to add to the grocery list since I am going shopping today (alone--without children!)...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baby Product I Hate Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hate binkies. I know that they are now a SIDS prevention item, but I hate them. I can't get my son to keep it out of his mouth. I think the binky is why he is not talking yet. His mouth is always stuffed with a binky! Not only that, he steals Henry's binkies every chance he gets. I have binkies all over my house. I find them under the beds, in the couch cushions, in the car, in the yard--I am being invaded by binkies. And today I don't like it....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Everyday People" by Sly &amp; the Family Stone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Sweet Home Alabama" by Lynyrd Skynyrd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Don't Go Back to Rockville" by REM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Mambo Italiano" by Rosemary Clooney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Smile, Smile, Smile" by Dan Zanes (can you tell I like this guy's music?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"We All Need More Kindness in this World" by Guy Davis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0.25em"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-115860789759491867?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115860789759491867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115860789759491867' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115860789759491867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115860789759491867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-im-thinking-about-september-19.html' title='What I&apos;m Thinking About: September 19'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115854624165974721</id><published>2006-09-17T22:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T16:43:59.203-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I'm Thinking About: September 18, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/September%2016%20010%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/September%2016%20010%20copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;My son, Henry... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Know what you're doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Love what you're doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Believe in what you're doing."&lt;br /&gt;--Steven Musseau&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What I'm Thinking About Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started visiting this blog by Ali Edwards called "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://aliedwards.typepad.com/whatisyourhappinesstoday/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What is Your Happiness Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;?", and I've realized how important it is for me to take a moment and recognize what makes me happy. I've never been one of those "glass half full" kind of people. I tend to see the negative and my anxiety level is often high over things really not worth worrying about. So when I found this website where each day a quote or experience or tangible or intangible item in this woman's life stands out as making her happy, I began to think about how I don't do that and that I need to start doing that every day. So here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today what makes me happy is doing laundry. I don't know why, but it is making me happy. I am getting my sons' clothes clean and stains removed. I am creating space in their room where the laundry was piling up. I feel productive when I hear the washing machine at work and the buzzer go off on the dryer. I love the smell of clean clothes and the warmth they evoke when I pull them out of the dryer. It makes me happy to see a stain that was there yesterday gone. I am actually looking forward to folding their clothes, putting them away and taking a look at them hanging all neat in their closet or folded in their drawers. Perhaps the happiness I find in these tasks have something to do with the fact that I love their cute little clothes. I love dressing my kids. I love seeing how they look in outfits their grandparents' bought them, I bought them or they were handed-down from their cousins. I love seeing my infant son, Henry, wear the clothes Sam did when he was that little. In a way, it brings back a lot of memories. I remember places we went and things we did when Sam wore certain outfits. I remember being sad when some of my favorite outfits for him got to be too small. And I remember the joy in going out and getting a really cute outfit or a brand new pair of Robeez. And now I get to relive all those moments simply by doing laundry. That is my happiness today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baby Product I Love Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned above about buying my son &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.robeez.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Robeez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. That is the product I love today. These little leather slippers are just about the cutest things I've ever seen for babies. My son Sam had several pairs throughout his infancy and now Henry gets to wear those plus a new pair I bought him before he was even born. There are a lot of knock-offs out there at the moment--Wal-mart and Target have their own version and there are a ton of people who make them and sell them on ebay--but the original Robeez are still the best and they seem to come in the cutest colors and designs. Check them out.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baby Product I Hate Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today I hate formula. I know it is one of those things I have to have since I am unable to nurse, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I hate the smell of it and the way it stains my baby's clothes and mine. I hate that it makes him gassy and constipated all the time. Sam had the same problem with formula and that just makes me hate it even more. But I am stuck with it for a year and it is one of those things I'm just going to have to deal with whether I like it or not. Today I just really choose not to like it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I haven't mentioned this yet, so now would be a good time...all these songs I list are cool songs that my kids like and my husband and I can tolerate or even enjoy ourselves! They can all be purchased at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://aliedwards.typepad.com/whatisyourhappinesstoday/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;iTunes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Come On-A My House" by Rosemary Clooney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Gettin Jiggy Wit It" by Will Smith&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"If I Knew You Were Coming" by Maria Muldaur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Rock Lobster" by the B-52s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"The Unicorn Song" by the Brobdingnaglan Bards (true Irish music)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Three Little Fishies" by Maria Muldaur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"I Love to See You Smile" by Victor Johnson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-115854624165974721?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115854624165974721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115854624165974721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115854624165974721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115854624165974721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-im-thinking-about-september-18.html' title='What I&apos;m Thinking About: September 18, 2006'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115840815778717600</id><published>2006-09-16T07:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T16:42:44.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I'm Thinking About: September 16, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/100_4057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/100_4057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My son, Sam, last fall at the pumpkin patch...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you have once seen the glow of happiness on the face of a beloved person, you know that a man can have no vocation but to awaken that light on the faces surrounding him." --Albert Camus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What I'm Thinking About Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fall. I am thinking about autumn and everything that goes with it, including my 40th birthday. Yes, I'm turning 40. Not quite sure how I feel about it but I'm anxious to get it over with, just as I am anxious to start wearing sweaters and jeans again! I posted this picture of my son, Sam, today not just because it is one of my favorite pictures of him but because I think it is the perfect picture for the quote I picked for today. Sam's face is always lit up with delight and it is contagious to those around him. Since he was born I called him "my sunshine." This picture really reflects the glow of happiness within Sam. It also reminds me that fall is once again upon us and soon we'll be at the pumpkin patch again, but this time I'll have two kids to take pictures of instead of one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No baby product praises or rants today.....(no time, we're off to the Penn State game!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Black Horse and the Cherry Tree" by KT Tunstall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"MMMBop" by Hanson (don't laugh, it is a great song to dance to with kids)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Sunny Days" by Jars of Clay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Hey Ya" by Outkast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Don't Fence Me In" by Harry Connick Jr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/34330080-115840815778717600?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115840815778717600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115840815778717600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115840815778717600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115840815778717600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-im-thinking-about-september-16.html' title='What I&apos;m Thinking About: September 16, 2006'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115832089705534465</id><published>2006-09-15T07:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T16:41:38.836-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I'm Thinking About: September 15, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/Untitled-1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/Untitled-1.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/Untitled-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/Untitled-1%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/Banner%20for%20Blog.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 417px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 55px" height="67" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/400/Banner%20for%20Blog.jpg" width="456" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Think what a better world it would be if we all, the whole world, had cookies and milk about three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap." &lt;em&gt;Barbara Jordan&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I'm Thinking About Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last night my sleep deprivation cause was my older son, Sam. I have no idea what was going on. He would wake up screaming and screaming. I thought it might be his teeth since he is getting a few molars, but even after having to practically tie him down to get him to swallow the Tylenol, he still was restless and just plain miserable. God only knows what he'll be like today...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Speaking of Tylenol, why do the infant/child Ibuprofen brands never give you a dropper? I just don't understand that one. They expect you to get out the measuring spoon or syringe in the middle of the night when your kid is screaming? I keep being told that I should give my son ibuprofen for teething but I just can't deal with having to measure it out. The dropper is just so much easier and mom-friendly. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baby Product I Love Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is not really a baby product but I'm going to catagorize it as one anyway. I love the stain remover Zout. It gets out everything! I've tried all the other standards like Shout and OxyClean, but the official stain remover for my house is Zout. Gets out poop stains. Gets out formula stains (and yes, formula does stain despite what everyone says). Gets out just about everything my two sons end up wearing on their clothes. No need to soak, either. Just spray, rub it in and toss it in the wash. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Baby Product I Hate Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hate the baby wipes from Wal-Mart. You know, their brand. They are too thick and hard to get out of the container. When you have a major poop on your hands and a toddler ready to put his hands "down there," you need wipes that work. My favorite so far are the Target brand wipes. They smell great. They come out of the container easily. They're cheaper than name brand wipes. Try them...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I'm Reading Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last night's attempt to finish the chapter of "Hard Eight" that I am on failed. What can I say, I am becoming a sleep-deprived illiterate mother....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Alice the Camel" by Crazy Praise, Volume 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Pajama Time" by Adam Bryant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Stay Up Late" by the Talking Heads&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"All My Friends Live in the Woods" by Dan Zanes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Monkey and the Engineer" by David LaMotte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Double Shot of My Baby Love" by the Swingin Medallions&lt;/span&gt;&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/34330080-115832089705534465?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115832089705534465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115832089705534465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115832089705534465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115832089705534465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-im-thinking-about-september-15.html' title='What I&apos;m Thinking About: September 15, 2006'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115823968821141476</id><published>2006-09-14T09:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T16:40:40.836-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I'm Thinking About: September 14, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/1600/August%2013%202006%20032%20copy.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/August%2013%202006%20032%20copy.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;My Son, Henry ("Hank")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy your ice cream while it's on your plate." &lt;em&gt;Thornton Wilder&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;What I'm Thinking About Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;It is time to mop the floor again. Yes, I mop the kitchen floor a lot. Sam seems to forever be in the stage of throwing his food on the floor. If the dogs are in the vicinity the throwing becomes a game and barely a morsel of food makes it to his mouth. And there are some things my dogs just won't eat. Like fruit. Not that my son eats any fruit. At this early age he has decided to boycott the Atkins diet and eat only carbs and meat. So any fruit that hits the floor gets sticky with dog and cat hair and I have one yucky floor. So me and my trusty mop will once again be at it again once Sam goes down for a nap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;When my parents were here helping me with my newborn, my dad mopped the floor for me once. Once and only once. We had this gentle debate about how to mop the floor. From his days as a sodajerk he recalls having one bucket of soapy water and one bucket of rinse water. He doesn't understand the whole one-bucket-mop-and-ring style of mopping we women (and some men) do these days. My &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mamalibman.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Libman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; mop seems to be a completely foreign concept to him. You'd think he'd love it--it is made in the USA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today the sitter comes again and once again I will probably be totally discouraged if my son is happy when I leave and sad when she leaves. I was told by a friend that this just means he is confident in his relationship with me and knows that I will return, whereas he likes her but doesn't know her well enough to count on her returning. So we'll just see what happens...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Baby Product I Love Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I love the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.babyuniverse.com/pro/baby/31351/QuickCleanMicro-SteamBags.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;microwave sterilizing bags from Medela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. Even though they are advertised as being for sterilizing breast pump appliance parts, they can also be used for bottles, nipples and binkies. You just put some water in the bag and load it with rinsed bottles, nipples and/or binkies and microwave it for 3-4 minutes. It's great! Especially when the dishwasher isn't full and you need clean stuff for the baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baby Product I Hate Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't have anything to rant about today--perhaps tomorrow....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;What I'm Reading Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Only got to read about four pages of "Hard Eight" (same book as yesterday) before I fell asleep. My goal for tonight is to at least finish the chapter I am on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Dance Around" by Ralph's World&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Octopus's Garden" by Ringo Starr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Grandma's Feather Bed" by John Denver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Oh How Happy" by Shades of Blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"The Fine Friends Are Here" by Dan Zanes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Whip It" by Devo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-115823968821141476?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115823968821141476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115823968821141476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115823968821141476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115823968821141476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-im-thinking-about-september-14.html' title='What I&apos;m Thinking About: September 14, 2006'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34330080.post-115814902788059987</id><published>2006-09-13T07:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T09:10:08.763-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I'm Thinking About: September 13, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My son, Sam...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="260" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1175/1587/320/100_6546%20copy.jpg" width="345" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of My Day...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Actually, these are lyrics from a fantastic musician &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;whose music is great for kids and moms (dads, too!):&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jump up day is breaking&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;j&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ump up let's get shaking&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i know you're lying down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jump up and we'll dance around&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danzanes.com/"&gt;Dan Zanes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danzanes.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;What I'm Thinking About Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yesterday I left my sons for the first time with a sitter. Other than having high anxiety issues and being overloaded with caffeine from being up with the baby the night before, it went okay. My 18-month old son didn't even cry when I left :( which kind of made me sad. But he cried when the sitter went home. I don't even want to think about what that might mean....The sitter comes back on Thursday and I am looking forward to grocery shopping without children. I also hope to relax at the local coffee house and do some digital scrapbooking on my laptop or read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that afternoon my older son and I went to music class at the local university. I was looking forward to watching him run around with other kids while they danced, banged on drums and just acted silly. Well, the music class was a bust. The other 18 month old kids sat in the circle and followed along with the singing and instrument playing. My son just ran around the room, stealing the instruments from the instructor's table and throwing a major fit when asked to give them back. How embarrassing! I was told by the other parents that this is normal behavior for a child this age. Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better! The class is also held in a dance studio and he is fascinated with putting on a show for himself in front of the mirrors. I hope next week goes better as I know he loves music because the iPod is constantly on and he loves all types of music he hears. And he loves to dance around the house--great exercise for a rainy day! I guess we'll be listening to a lot of fast-paced music today since it is going to be raining, especially if I want to get any kind of nap out of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Baby Product I Love Today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.soothie-pacifier.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Soothies bottles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. Just the best! They are new from the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thefirstyears.com/default.asp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;First Years &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;company. I love them. My son, Hank, loves them. They don't leak like the Avent bottles did and don't have all the parts to clean like the Dr. Brown's bottles. And the nipples are very sturdy (important when you have a toddler with teeth that likes to steal his brother's bottles). Anyway, I like these bottles. Other than all the reasons I've already listed, I also like the pretty greenish-blue nipple. It is different. Gives me a burst of color at 3:00 a.m. when I am trying to stay awake while feeding my baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Baby Product I Hate Today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;That would have to be the "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.babybungalow.com/nunosp10ozgr.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nubby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;" bottles/sippy cups. You can't buy replacement nipples! Once the nipples get yucky from lots of use or bitten with my toddler's teeth I have to throw the whole thing away! I wish they would make replacement nipples. I know they are inexpensive and Wal-mart always has a bin full of them for sale, but I think it is just a waste to toss a perfectly good bottle when all it needs is a new nipple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I'm Reading Today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've been reading this book for two weeks now, when normally I read a book in a day or two. I am reading the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.evanovich.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Stephanie Plum &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;novels by Janet Evanovich. I am on number eight, "Hard Eight." Funny, funny, funny. Great series to read when you are sleep-deprived and in need of some non-child humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My iTunes Kid Picks of the Day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my iPod and I are really liking these songs for my kids to listen to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Jump Up" by &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danzanes.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dan Zanes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danzanes.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Come on Get Happy" by the Partridge Family&lt;br /&gt;"The Fine Friends are Here" by &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danzanes.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dan Zanes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Bath Tub Blues" by Greg Brown&lt;br /&gt;"Closer to Free" by the BoDeans&lt;br /&gt;"The Grease MegaMix" by John Travolta &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34330080-115814902788059987?l=drowningindiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/feeds/115814902788059987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34330080&amp;postID=115814902788059987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115814902788059987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34330080/posts/default/115814902788059987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://drowningindiapers.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-im-thinking-about-september-13.html' title='What I&apos;m Thinking About: September 13, 2006'/><author><name>cbwetfish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
