<?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-778847320094706439</id><updated>2011-07-30T23:01:31.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That's What She Said.....</title><subtitle type='html'>I have always had a lot to say. What better place to put it but on the internet :-)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-645564079750108356</id><published>2011-07-18T13:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T16:45:02.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You know it is Triathlon season when...</title><content type='html'>These apply to me at least.....whether or not these are normal is anybody's guess....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;You are on a morning run and wonder where the water station is&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Your bathing suit smells like skanky lake water no matter how many times you wash it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You are driving somewhere on a wide, smooth road and all you can think of is 'this would be a great road to ride my bike on'&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When you get in an actual pool to swim laps you are surprised you can see the bottom&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You have worn some kind of workout clothes for at least 7 days straight&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A peanut butter and jelly sandwich has become a daily meal/snack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You drink a gallon of water a day without even noticing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You have to switch to a clinical deodorant because the normal one just can't keep up and you are tired of stinking at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You have had at least one 'half ass' shower.  This normally involves wipes, body mist, deodorant and some cold water because you don't have time for a real shower.  Yeah, yeah, don't act all grossed out you know you've done it too.&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/778847320094706439-645564079750108356?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/645564079750108356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=645564079750108356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/645564079750108356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/645564079750108356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2011/07/you-know-it-is-triathlon-season-when.html' title='You know it is Triathlon season when...'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3113074004689958247</id><published>2011-06-30T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T13:12:30.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is for Hershey and Mars of the USA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O3nqDuzR-Tk/TgzYosCg6MI/AAAAAAAAAGE/VChugUnRbwU/s1600/cadbury-british.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 151px; height: 201px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O3nqDuzR-Tk/TgzYosCg6MI/AAAAAAAAAGE/VChugUnRbwU/s320/cadbury-british.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624108228206979266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate makers of America, if you are listening.....could you make yours taste better?  I am at the mercy of the kindness of my half brother to bring me a giant bar of Cadbury milk chocolate from England once a year.  The rest of the year I am stuck eating the 'just ok' American kind.  Sure, I love this country and you do so many other things well so why the hell can't you make chocolate as good as the Brits?  And why are there no Mars bars around here either (not the ones with almonds in it)?  Oh, and while you are at it, can you pass a note to the beer makers and tell them the same thing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-3113074004689958247?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3113074004689958247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3113074004689958247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3113074004689958247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3113074004689958247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2011/06/this-is-for-hershey-and-mars-of-usa.html' title='This is for Hershey and Mars of the USA'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O3nqDuzR-Tk/TgzYosCg6MI/AAAAAAAAAGE/VChugUnRbwU/s72-c/cadbury-british.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-5774390445520795774</id><published>2011-05-10T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T08:19:00.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I get it...you're smarter than me.....</title><content type='html'>So with all the hoopla surrounding the death of Osama Bin Laden I have come to one conclusion, some people are really annoying when they think they are right. &lt;br /&gt;When I first heard about his death I did wonder about the timing of it.  I have always assumed that our government knew where he was but chose to leave him alive so that he would not be deemed a martyr. &lt;br /&gt;However, I have since learned that there are a number of people that are not convinced that OBL was even responsible for 9/11 or that he even exists.  I believe that everyone is entitled to their opinion but a conspiracy theorists standard response to being challenged is that I am a 'sheep' following the governments garbage that they feed me.  I do question things before I form an opinion.  Just because I choose the more popular option does that make me less intelligent?  I prefer to think of myself as more scientific in my approach.  In Osama Bin Ladens case, what is more likely? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;That there really is (was) a man that was so filled with hatred and decided to use his religion/money/influence as a springboard to commit acts of terror against a country that he views as the epitomy of greed?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;That the US government created such an individual to pin the blame on  for 9/11 and            somebody else is actually responsible for flying  two 747's into the twin towers?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;I am gonna go with number one but that is not because I am uneducated.  I have read the alternative theories out there and am not impressed with the 'proof' or ideas that have been put forth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-5774390445520795774?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/5774390445520795774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=5774390445520795774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/5774390445520795774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/5774390445520795774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-get-ityoure-smarter-than-me.html' title='I get it...you&apos;re smarter than me.....'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-1990781873443370127</id><published>2011-04-12T05:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T06:10:07.244-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tri Shorts Reviews for Newbies</title><content type='html'>After completing two sprint triathlons last year I finally decided to buy some triathlon shorts for the upcoming season.  I know you are thinking, what? You don't wear $2 bike shorts from Wal Mart to swim, bike and run in?  Apparently not.  From what I can tell at the races, triathlon apparel falls into three categories:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Th&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XEIuCROxT70/TahkdtX1GyI/AAAAAAAAAFw/1mpl5T-e3yI/s1600/davescott-thumb-autox379-210517.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 139px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XEIuCROxT70/TahkdtX1GyI/AAAAAAAAAFw/1mpl5T-e3yI/s200/davescott-thumb-autox379-210517.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595832998566370082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e seasoned triathletes wear a one piece &lt;a href="http://www.tri-zone.com/Details.html?cat=17&amp;amp;item=DS1FT"&gt;contraption&lt;/a&gt; that resembles a wrestling unitard.  This is significantly better than the previous man-bikini (see left) that ruled in the 80's.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The weekend warriors wear tri shorts and a tank&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The rest of us wear whatever we already own in our closet.  This usually consists of a speedo one piece with a sports bra underneath and various ratty running clothes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Triathlon shorts look a lot like cycling shorts, have a padded butt, and dry very quickly.  They are also expensive at an average $50 per pair.  It is rare to find a store that carry's a wide selection of these shorts so ordering them online is the way to go.  Unfortunately, there are so many brands, lengths, and styles that it is difficult to guess what is going to fit your shape the best.  I ended up having to order three different pairs before I found a pair that I liked and was comfortable.  I thought I would write about my experience as I found it very difficult to find any good reviews when looking for tri shorts.  I cannot comment to wear and tear as I have not used the shorts yet, just the fit and feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for comparison I am 5 foot 4 inches, size 6-8, 138 pounds and my measurements are around 35-29-40.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: Tri shorts don't actually look good on anyone that is over 110 pounds so forget about finding a pair that looks good.  Comfort should be a top priority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st pair:&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.swimoutlet.com/product_p/22673.htm"&gt;DeSoto  Women's Carrera Tri Short Low Rise&lt;/a&gt; (~$50)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These were a really nice material, not too tight and the leg bands were not cutting off the blood flow.  Their were two problems for me:  one, the leg inseam was only 6 inches and the leg bands hit me mid thigh which created a very bad 'sausage effect' so I would prefer a longer length.  The low rise option is usually nice in pants but in these shorts I couldn't bend down without my butt crack showing.  I do have a longer torso so maybe that was the issue.  Or maybe my ass is just too big.&lt;br /&gt;Bottom line:  These are great shorts at a great price if you have a shorter torso, and prefer the shorter inseam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd Pair:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h1 class="ProductNameColorLARGE"   style="font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-left: 2px; margin-bottom: 4px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:20px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.swimoutlet.com/product_p/22232.htm"&gt;Pearl Izumi Women's Select Tri Short (~$55)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I ordered these shorts because I know the brand is good and they came in an 8 inch inseam.  I honestly don't have much good to say about these except that maybe I ordered them in wrong size.  I normally order medium and the Pearl Izumi size chart did list my measurements as a medium.  When I put them on they were very constricting all over.  They were tight in the crotch area and the leg bands were so tight above my knees that I looked like I was walking around on two Italian links (there's an image!).  There was also a very bright beige sheen to these so it looked like you could see my skin underneath.  They weren't actually see through but it was disconcerting.  I did not re-order in a bigger size as I could not see a bigger size really being that much better.  If you do order these, order a size up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;3rd Pair:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.tri-zone.com/Details.html?cat=1044&amp;amp;item=TYJ8R-CL"&gt;TYR Women's 8" Splice Short (~$40-$50)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I ordered these shorts in a large because I had seen a review where it said they ran small.  I love these shorts.  They are not too constricting, they have a drawstring in the waist so you can cinch them tighter during swims.  The length hits me just above the knee and the leg bands are not too constricting but are snug.  There are two little pockets on each hip (not zippered) in which I can put Gu or jelly beans (preferably after the swim portion :-).  Hopefully, these hold up well in a race because I am not returning them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, just to give credit to &lt;a href="http://www.tri-zone.com"&gt;www.tri-zone.com&lt;/a&gt; because I ordered the TYR shorts from them and they discounted them $10 for me after I sent them the same pair priced lower on Amazon.  I am always amazed and grateful when a retailer actually stands behind their policies.  I will definitely be using them in the future.&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/Em/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/Em/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-1990781873443370127?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1990781873443370127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=1990781873443370127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1990781873443370127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1990781873443370127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2011/04/tri-shorts-reviews-for-newbies.html' title='Tri Shorts Reviews for Newbies'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XEIuCROxT70/TahkdtX1GyI/AAAAAAAAAFw/1mpl5T-e3yI/s72-c/davescott-thumb-autox379-210517.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2960031451694797349</id><published>2010-10-11T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T14:16:37.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Definition of a 'Homer'</title><content type='html'>Re Sports:  A fan who believes that the other team is full of cheaters, the refs are paid off, and their team 'just needs the right motivation' to win a championship.  Possibly despite all indications to the contrary.  In other words.....deluded.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2960031451694797349?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2960031451694797349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2960031451694797349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2960031451694797349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2960031451694797349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/10/definition-of-homer.html' title='Definition of a &apos;Homer&apos;'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-6257244792993693137</id><published>2010-10-01T10:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T10:51:57.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I did the best I could.....</title><content type='html'>The title of my post is a quote that has been running through my mind lately.  It originally came up when I was slightly disappointed with my first triathlon times.  I can appreciate the spirit of the words when they are applied to sports or physical conquests.  I am very skeptical of them when they are spoken about the actions that people take in their own lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has heard this line on TV or in the movies.  It usually comes into the plot when grown children are accusing their parents of being crappy role models.  Or drug addicts that can't seem to pull themselves together to be a responsible parent.  When someone says this I am inclined to call 'bullshit!' on them.  Did you really do the best that you could?  Are we all limited to what we think is our best?  Or should we be aspiring to be better than who we thought we could?  Wouldn't a better response be 'I'm sorry I disappointed you and I didn't always get it right but people make mistakes'.  I definitely have my parenting failures and somehow it seems that I will spend my life regretting the times when I could have done better.  I know that it was not 'my best' and I am trying to be ok with that.  To be human is to err.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, just re-read this post and not sure it makes sense but will post anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-6257244792993693137?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/6257244792993693137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=6257244792993693137' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/6257244792993693137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/6257244792993693137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-did-best-i-could.html' title='I did the best I could.....'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-8340786653370911436</id><published>2010-09-04T12:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T12:53:11.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Sprint Triathlon</title><content type='html'>Woke up at 5:30am.  Shuffled around and ate a PB &amp;amp; J.  Washed it down with a cup of tea and set off for the race.  Arrived at the transition area feeling a little nauseous with nerves.  Amazed at the sea of bikes and people walking around in tri suits.  Grabbed my bag of stuff and my bike and set everything out in the order I would need it.  Saw a friend who was there to watch.  He took pictures of us and gave us some last minute tips.  Felt very intimitated by the amount of people who seemed athletic and very relaxed.  Walked down to get my number written on my arms and my age (!) on the back of my leg.  Waited in a very long line to use the porta potty and grabbed my baby blue color cap and goggles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walked down to the start of the swim joking and laughing with a few people.  Got into the lake with the rest of the third wave group and realized that although the water was warm it was loaded with sticks and seaweed.  Treaded water for three minutes so I didn't have to touch the bottom.  I confidently got out to the front of the group and stayed there for most of the swim.  The water was so dark I couldn't see anything.  Was completely thrown off at the concept of swimming blind.  I took way too many breathes just so I could see where I was going.  Staggered out onto the beach and was still rattled over my less than great swim.  Barely remember making it to my stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pull on socks, shoes, shorts, shirt, sunglasses and a helmet.  Start my bike with my breath still coming hard from panicking in the water.  Ease into the bike and halfway through realize that I can do better.  I am trying to save my energy for the run.  Eat an energy gel pack that I decide is absolutely disgusting.  Finish in what I think is a good time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trade my helmet in for a baseball cap and walk out of the transition area.  My left foot is completely numb and I couldn't make it go fast if I tried.  Start running as soon as I hear the beep of my chip timer.  Have to stop and walk for a few seconds a couple of minutes in.  I am dying but I start running again.  The breath comes easier now but I can tell I am not running well but can't seem to pump it up.  Start reading the back of peoples legs so I can see how old the people are that are passing me.  Get to the half way point and realize I am not going to make my goal of a sub 30 minutes.  Try to kick up the pace and I feel like I am.  I am singing songs in my head, counting foot falls, anything to keep from stopping.  I finally see the orange cones of the finish line.  Me and the guy next to me decide to sprint it out.  I am going full speed towards the finish.  Cross the line.  Made my overall time goal by two minutes.  Success.  On to the next.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-8340786653370911436?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/8340786653370911436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=8340786653370911436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/8340786653370911436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/8340786653370911436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/09/first-sprint-triathlon.html' title='First Sprint Triathlon'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3437905159009224663</id><published>2010-08-28T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T16:43:09.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Things I Have Learned Training for a Triathlon</title><content type='html'>With a week left until my first sprint triathlon I look back on what I have learned over the past two months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  A 'brick' is not something you build a wall with, nor what you may see in the toilet after a day full of cheese and no fiber.  A 'brick' is a workout that combines two of the triathlon sports.  In my case, usually a bike ride and a run.  It is spectacularly brutal in the midst of summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Working out like a dog four or five days a week will not make you skinny.  It hasn't even lost me much in the way of inches but I could crush a walnut with my thigh muscles and run 3 miles after a 10 mile bike ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  With number two in mind, triathletes are not always chiseled, young, and athletic.  I recently watched a local triathlon and while there were definitely fine looking people there, half of the top twenty looked like your average person that goes to the gym a couple days a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I have the mental toughness of a can of dog food.  My mind is definitely stronger than my body and keeps telling my muscles that 'you cannot do it'.  I have to listen to music while I am running just to drown it out (that and the huffing and puffing).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Swimmers do not belong on land.  Swimming for me feels strong and graceful even when I am gasping for air.  Running makes me look and feel like a person that is going to throw up on the side of the road for lack of oxygen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Carbs are my new best friend....again.  I found myself feeling quite ill sometimes after my workouts and figured out that a granola bar and a gatorade before my brick workouts made me feel so much better (rather than the cheese stick I was having).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  Peoples reactions when they find out I am doing a triathlon are interesting.  They either seem to think I am crazy or are disappointed to find out that this is not the &lt;a href="http://ironman.com/"&gt;Ironman&lt;/a&gt; I am entering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-3437905159009224663?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3437905159009224663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3437905159009224663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3437905159009224663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3437905159009224663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/08/7-things-i-have-learned-training-for.html' title='7 Things I Have Learned Training for a Triathlon'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3941808364786645749</id><published>2010-07-29T16:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T18:15:35.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Sucks</title><content type='html'>I have been composing this post in my mind while sweating like porky pig during my bike/runs outside.  I have not written it until now because I thought for sure there was something wrong with me.  Everyone loves summer, it's great, people are happy and tan and fit.  Frosty drinks, bathing suits, and beautiful, green backyards are all I see on TV.  Alas, I can't fight it anymore, summer is just wretched.&lt;br /&gt;I am a winter/snow/cold loving person by nature.  I thought that maybe now the kids are mobile that I would like the summer season more.  Swimming!  The beach!  Exercising outside!  Playing at the park!  All kinds of activities that sound like a whole lot of fun when the driveway is buried under 18 inches of snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reasons why I hate summer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  It is so frigging humid the 5 minute walk to my air conditioned car makes me sweat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  A side effect of reason number one is excessive laundry since I now have to change my underwear twice a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  It might as well be snowing out for the amount of 'fresh air' that I get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I have to display the varicose veins on my legs on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I am sick of the chlorine smell in my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I am tired of the constant application of sunblock on myself and two children.  Every day.  All day.  I am very pale.  My skin is better suited to being a Viking than a South Jersey Guidette.  Or perhaps a vampire....hmmm, then I could get with that hot vampire on True Blood, Eric.  He was a Viking once too, we would have a lot in common.....wait, where was I?......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I have to shave my legs at least every two days (vs winter which is....well, hardly ever).  Of course, if I decided to become a vampire and find that Eric I might shave them a lot more...but I digress....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  Hot weather makes me really irritable.  Which is different from the everyday crap that makes me irritable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  I really hate the beach.  I have tried to like it over the years but frankly one day at the beach all summer is enough for me.  The sand sucks, I never get to sit down, it's hot, and my thighs rub together like sandpaper.  The amount of shit that I have to lug down to the sand is ridiculous considering the size of the two children that use it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  Exercising outside is totally pointless because for every degree the temperature rises the slower I get until I may as well be standing still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.  Yard work is hot, sweaty, full of disgusting bugs, and nothing ever seems to look better than when I started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I hate the summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-3941808364786645749?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3941808364786645749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3941808364786645749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3941808364786645749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3941808364786645749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/07/summer-sucks.html' title='Summer Sucks'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-4866809564578049387</id><published>2010-06-14T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T17:08:55.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Logic Update</title><content type='html'>So this Love and Logic experiment has turned into a weird mix of my do-what-comes-easier approach and the more strict approach that the book suggests.  This is an overview of our successes and failures the past couple of weeks.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 14 - Spends two hours crying and screaming about not wanting to wear underwear (with a dress!).  Leah and I spend time outside playing waiting for her to come out, with periodic checks on her to make sure that no, she is not calm enough yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 16 - Complains, whines, and cries so much that Ryan leaves without her for a Phillies game.  Unbelievable drama unfolds for the next half an hour but then surprising remorse is displayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 17 - Picks out a dress and shoes at a store that she insists she will wear.  Wears the dress without issue but the shoes are 'too itchy'.  I point out that if she does not wear the shoes at some point she will have to 'earn' back the money that I paid for them since they are not returnable.  Morgan looks at me and then says 'ok, I will wear them later, just not today'.  Still remains to be seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 18 - Got presented with so many choices that she was starting to look at me like I was crazy and indecisive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 20 - Got dressed without issue for school, asked me nicely to braid her hair and packed her own lunch :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were other small successes that I was proud of but my memory escapes me right now.  Still plodding away....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-4866809564578049387?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/4866809564578049387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=4866809564578049387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/4866809564578049387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/4866809564578049387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/06/logic-update.html' title='Logic Update'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-5649267279723062314</id><published>2010-06-06T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T06:55:55.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and Logic....the First Saga</title><content type='html'>My four year old has been giving me attitude problems lately.  Talking back, yelling, not listening...you get the idea, being a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;four&lt;/span&gt; year old.  Unfortunately, I seem to be hard wired to get really pissed off at all this disrespect.  I am like a bull with a red flag.  My first instinct is to make her do what I want, when I say, and dammit don't question me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am aware that this method is ridiculous because I myself do whatever I damn please regardless of what I am &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;told&lt;/span&gt; to do.  I wouldn't expect anything less of my darling offspring either.  So I decided to do what I always do when I am at a loss, find books on the subject and absorb all the information until my head is about to explode.  Do you know how many parenting/discipline books there are?  Do a search on Amazon and you will get back 1300 hits.  How the hell do I read 1300 books?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a few recommendations online about this &lt;a href="http://www.loveandlogic.com"&gt;Love and Logic&lt;/a&gt; method so I perused the book in Barnes and Noble one day and it seemed to make sense.  It also called for complete calmness by the parent at all times.....yeah, ok, that is not going to happen but I am willing to give it a shot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is highlights of the last two weeks since I have been implementing this method:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1:  Morgan spends two hours crying in and out of her bedroom because she doesn't want to get dresssed.&lt;br /&gt;Day 3:  She goes to the store in the car in just her underwear and a t-shirt because she did not get dressed by the appointed time&lt;br /&gt;Day 6:  She goes to karate in her pajamas because she was not dressed by the appointed time&lt;br /&gt;Day 8:  She throws a 30 minute fit because she did not want to take a bath and therefore missed her nightly viewing of Caillou&lt;br /&gt;Day 9:  She gets dressed all by herself for school, brushes her hair and teeth and tells me that she doesn't want to be late.....(what?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep you posted on the rest.....now if only I can get Ryan to read this book, he is totally lost on what I am doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-5649267279723062314?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/5649267279723062314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=5649267279723062314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/5649267279723062314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/5649267279723062314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/06/love-and-logicthe-first-saga.html' title='Love and Logic....the First Saga'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-1739626015237043932</id><published>2010-03-19T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T11:39:18.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All worked up</title><content type='html'>I have had people accuse me of being 'laid back' which came as a shock to me when I first heard it in my twenties.  I get so frustrated over so many stupid things that the very idea of being viewed as calm never occurred to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am pretty sure that the only reason I come across as laid back is that I learned a long time ago that stress makes me a very ugly person.  To combat this stress I just let a lot of stuff slide.  Crumbs on the floor, dog hair, bitchy people, idiot drivers....I let it all go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who cares that some loser in Target gave me a dirty look because I accidentally said a curse word in front of their kid?  They can bite me.&lt;br /&gt;So what if the dog has severe gastrointestinal issues that means I have to get up and let her out at 4am?  At least I am not the one with diarrhea so bad I can't sit down.&lt;br /&gt;So what if I had to bail out 100's of gallons of water out of my basement last week?  At least I got a good work out and a healthy respect for what mother nature can do.  By the way, she can bite me also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you see, I am not lazy or naive, I just choose not to turn myself into a horrible person by agonizing over things that in the end really don't matter.  I suppose it is up to the individual to decide what is worth stressing over.  Do you like a spotless house?  By all means, clean away because it would be stressful for you to live in disarray.  Do you feel that your appearance needs to be just so?  Take an hour to get ready because it would be stressful for you to leave the house under dressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, I suppose, I am only insistent on a few things: healthy food for me and my family, my skin care regimen, knowing where everything is and having my computers work exactly how I like them to.  No, these things do not always happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-1739626015237043932?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1739626015237043932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=1739626015237043932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1739626015237043932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1739626015237043932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/03/all-worked-up.html' title='All worked up'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3528037424190644315</id><published>2010-03-03T12:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T12:49:24.707-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Morgan for President</title><content type='html'>I came to the conclusion the other day that kids know everything.  Even the younger ones are born knowing everything they could ever know.  My years of experience have nothing on the instant wisdom in which every child claims to have.  I thought it was just my four year old that was super knowledgeable but in talking to other parents I realize that this is a widespread phenomenon.  This superiority would make Morgan a perfect candidate for President.  She could fix the economy, health care, and budget issues all before she finishes her juice box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone hear the sarcasm here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can anyone tell that I am sooooo tired of hearing 'I know' when I inform a child about watching out for that puddle that she almost stepped in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or 'That is not how you do it' when clearly Morgan's method of putting on lip gloss on her eyebrows is not working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also don't want to hear anything about how I like to do everything by myself and can clearly remember giving my own mother hell about how I do NOT want help because I am just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pay back is a bitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-3528037424190644315?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3528037424190644315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3528037424190644315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3528037424190644315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3528037424190644315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/03/morgan-for-president.html' title='Morgan for President'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-9171623690586421129</id><published>2010-02-19T07:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T16:07:35.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wisdom Teeth Extraction Survival Kit</title><content type='html'>For some reason I like to make up 'Survival Kits' in my head.  I wrote a post about a Newborn Survival Kit &lt;a href="http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/newborn-survival-kit.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and it seems to get quite a bit of Google traffic.  I am betting it is from new mothers who are up at 4am with a screaming child, desperate for something they can buy that will fix everything.  Of course, they come across my useless post which makes them even more desolate but I digress....&lt;br /&gt;Today would be day five of getting all my wisdom teeth out and it occurs to me that other people may be wondering how to survive this pain in the ass surgery.  So here is the little list of things that have been immensely helpful:&lt;p class="zemanta-img zemanta-action-dragged" style="margin: 1em; float: right; display: block; width: 225px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Italian_ice_cream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a5/Italian_ice_cream.jpg/300px-Italian_ice_cream.jpg" alt="It's the picture of Italian ice-cream in a sho..." style="border: medium none ; display: block; width: 215px; height: 197px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="zemanta-img-attribution"&gt;Image via &lt;a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Italian_ice_cream.jpg"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pain killers.  I cannot stress this enough, take the damn pills.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Soup.  The Campbells Soup at Hand has been a life saver.  I would avoid the broccoli one though because the little bits of veggies get stuck in your freshly split gums.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ice cream and popsicles&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Oatmeal&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Yogurt&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Applesauce&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Milk&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Baked beans&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mashed potatoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ice packs and warm packs for your face.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Child size toothbrush and spoons.  It is ridiculous how little your jaw will open.  I still can barely fit an adult size fork in my mouth.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Salt water.  You swish with this after you eat anything.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A baby sitter.  The pain is bearable if you are laying in bed but it is excruciating if you have to focus and think about the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't watch any commercials on TV or read any food magazines.  I am so hungry for real food it is actually painful to watch Rachael Ray.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;I never realized how much I would miss eating salad until this week. I would kill for a good organic spring mix with cheese, tuna, chick peas, olives, veggies, and a good vinaigrette. The only two good things I can say about this experience is my excellent oral surgeon and the fact that I have lost two pounds in 5 days (I never lose weight!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  Two more things to mention....get this surgery done when you are young and heal quicker and don't get &lt;a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alveolar_osteitis" title="Alveolar osteitis" rel="wikipedia"&gt;dry socket&lt;/a&gt;!  Holy crap, my recovery from childbirth was better than the pain of dry socket.  If you are unfortunate enough to get this, buy some clove oil (Eugenol) and go back to your dentist for a dressing that they tuck into the hole in your gums (Percocets didn't even make a dent).  The pain was so bad I actually looked forward to going to the dentist and having him shove blissfully numbing gauze in a fresh wound.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"&gt;&lt;a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://reblog.zemanta.com/zemified/46495d7a-38fa-4ec6-adf4-e992c598c6bd/" title="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]"&gt;&lt;img style="border: medium none ; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=46495d7a-38fa-4ec6-adf4-e992c598c6bd" alt="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"&gt;&lt;/script&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/778847320094706439-9171623690586421129?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/9171623690586421129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=9171623690586421129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/9171623690586421129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/9171623690586421129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/02/wisdom-teeth-extraction-survival-kit.html' title='Wisdom Teeth Extraction Survival Kit'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-412112398790569159</id><published>2010-02-05T11:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T11:37:57.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Screw Over</title><content type='html'>I will admit it here on my blog for the first time ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="zemanta-img zemanta-action-dragged" style="margin: 1em; float: right; display: block; width: 310px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/This-Thousands-Simple-Swaps-Pounds-/dp/1594868549%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzemanta-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3D1594868549"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61cj9k6rkAL._SL300_.jpg" alt="Cover of " eat="" not="" thousands="" of="" style="border: medium none ; display: block;" height="300" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="zemanta-img-attribution"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/This-Thousands-Simple-Swaps-Pounds-/dp/1594868549%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzemanta-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3D1594868549"&gt;Cover via Amazon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am obsessed with food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not that I am a super health freak or something because I am most definitely not.  I just love to read about nutrition and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;try&lt;/span&gt; to follow some of the things that I can incorporate into my life painlessly.  One of the magazines that I love to read is my husbands Men's Health.  They have a column (now also a book) called 'Eat This, Not That' which I am eternally grateful for because they expose all the hiding calories in many restaurants dishes.  You would not believe the crap that restaurants will add to their food to make it 'tasty' or 'hearty'.  I call it a waste of chemicals and fat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to hand it to McDonalds, sure their menu is full of seriously fattening, unhealthy choices but at least they are up front about their nutrition information.  I don't think anyone in this day and age has any delusions that a Big Mac and Fries are anything resembling healthy.  When I eat there I am well aware of how many calories I am splurging on because I read the nutrion facts on the back of the tray cover as I am eating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I read the '10 Worst Sandwiches in America'.  Feel free to peruse the list and come back to finish reading this post.  I'll wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://health.yahoo.com/experts/eatthis/43781/10-worst-sandwiches-in-america/"&gt;10 Worst Sandwiches&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, let's start with #4.  How the hell can a 'vegetarian' sandwich have 1100 calories in it?  What is wrong with restaurants that they can ruin a perfectly nutrious sandwich that fools some poor slob on the Biggest Loser into thinking they are eating well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6 from Red Robin was a shame.  I LOVE Red Robin.  I have eaten that sandwich and loved it (granted it was huge so I only ate half, but still!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 is a disgrace!  Seriously, is there anyone that you can think of that needs a 2000 calorie sandwich?  Unless you have been recently rescued from the brink of starvation in the middle of the Atlantic, you might want to skip this meal.  Actually, you might want to skip it anyway, it didn't sound all that good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and if you want to know how many calories you chug down in your beer every night.  Check this link out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://eatthis.menshealth.com/slideshow/slideshow-best-beers?cm_mmc=Yahoo-_-ETNT-_-10_Worst_Sandwiches-_-Worst_Beers_Slideshow"&gt;40 Top Beers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am warning you though, it is definitely based on calories, not taste.  Most of my favorites were in the 150-200 calorie range.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-412112398790569159?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/412112398790569159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=412112398790569159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/412112398790569159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/412112398790569159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/02/great-screw-over.html' title='The Great Screw Over'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2316113576638794801</id><published>2010-01-25T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T13:19:26.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why it sucks getting old....</title><content type='html'>I have two severely damaged thigh muscles due to a 30 minute Crunch Pilates DVD yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just now getting over a cough that turned into bronchitis 2 weeks ago.  My one year old was nice enough to give me this ailment and she was cough/snot free in two days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wisdom teeth are coming in and making my entire face hurt.  It took me two days to realize this was the problem because I thought it was a side effect of said previous cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will have to get aforementioned wisdom teeth removed and I am not looking forward to the recovery time.  Kids don't care that you feel like shit and therefore the no-mercy rules apply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to pee more often than I really think I should&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband complains more often than I really think he should.  This would be a side effect of him getting older too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I complain in my blog more often than I should.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2316113576638794801?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2316113576638794801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2316113576638794801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2316113576638794801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2316113576638794801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/01/why-it-sucks-getting-old.html' title='Why it sucks getting old....'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2379452439944476809</id><published>2010-01-13T10:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T11:13:10.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Love a Good Deal</title><content type='html'>What is it with kids and infomercials?  I have never really paid much attention to these cheesy, 2 minute long ads except to make fun of all of them.  You have the classics - Set and Forget It, Ginsu knives, OxiClean, Magic Bullet, and of course Tony Little and his Gazelle.  However, I have noticed that there are a lot of infomercials on the channels that Morgan likes to watch.  At first I thought that these commercials were for all the adults that may be watching with their kids.  How wrong I was and how clever are the marketing geniuses behind it.&lt;br /&gt;I have seen my four year old watch these commercials with eyes bright and mouth open.  When the mere mention of a 'free gift with order' comes on she is positively foaming at the mouth.  Bendaroos, Touch n Brush, Magic Soap, Big Top Cupcake and the Snuggie are just to name a few that I have been instructed to buy.  Morgan actually came to me the other day and said 'Mommy, I can't find any of my clothes.  I need Wonder Hangers'.  Ok, first of all, she can't find any of her clothes because they are all on the floor and secondly, I am not buying these hangers so she can get the free stick up light that comes with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Mt3F69UfC28&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x402061&amp;amp;color2=0x9461ca&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Mt3F69UfC28&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x402061&amp;amp;color2=0x9461ca&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you'll excuse me I have to go make a giant cupcake with pudding in the middle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2379452439944476809?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2379452439944476809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2379452439944476809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2379452439944476809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2379452439944476809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2010/01/kids-love-good-deal.html' title='Kids Love a Good Deal'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-6129608986971527990</id><published>2009-12-07T17:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T18:10:36.067-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Christmas was better when you were a kid....</title><content type='html'>I have come to the realization the past few years that Christmas is just not as much fun as it used to be.  As usual, I have a list of reasons why Christmas as a kid is better than Christmas as an adult:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  When I was a kid I wished for Santa to bring me a baby My Little Pony complete with baby toys and a play pen.  As an adult I wish that Santa would bring me a giant play pen in which to put babies that misbehave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I used to lay in bed wondering how Santa delivered all those toys in one night.  Now I lay in bed wondering how the hell I am going to wrap all of 'Santa's' toys in one night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  As a kid everything is magical:  The tree appears with all it's lights and decorations on, santa shaped cookies come out of the oven already made, nobody asks you what to buy for your brother, and best of all nobody asks you 'what are you cooking for Christmas dinner?'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  As a kid I would wake up each morning wishing for snow so I didn't have to go to school.  As an adult I still wish for snow so that I won't have to go to work but I am torn because then the kids will be home and will insist that I spend an hour putting on their snow clothes for a 15 minute romp in a quarter inch of snow.  Not to mention the scarf and hat I am going to have to dig out to put on the pathetic snow man in the front yard that won't last a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  As a kid I loved nothing better than poring over the bright shiny pages of the toy catalog.  Now I flip through the Toys R Us book and have nothing but derision for the cheap, plastic pieces of crap that I know I am going to have to buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  As a kid I thought that Christmas decorations were beautiful.  Bright shiny tinsel, twinkling lights, and pretty ribbons.  As an adult I look at them and sometimes think 'I wonder if that tinsel is strong enough to tie a 15 month old to a chair?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  As a kid I used to eat chocolate for breakfast every christmas day.  As an adult I still eat chocolate every christmas day :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-6129608986971527990?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/6129608986971527990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=6129608986971527990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/6129608986971527990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/6129608986971527990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/12/why-christmas-was-better-when-you-were.html' title='Why Christmas was better when you were a kid....'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-1432355422529940138</id><published>2009-11-01T16:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T18:15:40.197-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Five Worst Cartoons - In My Opinion</title><content type='html'>Having a three year old I have watched a lot of little kid cartoons and kids movies in the last couple of years.  I have a love/hate relationship with them.  I love them because it keeps my daughter entertained long enough to load the dishwasher and vacuum the floor.  I hate them because some of them are the biggest pieces of crap I have seen since Luke ate an entire cheesecake.  Here is my list of the five worst and the reasons why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Wonder Pets&lt;/span&gt;:  The cartoon is not so bad in itself but if I find myself humming the theme song at work one more time I am going to kill myself.  If you would like to torture yourself, you can listen to it &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxlWvE2U0nw"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Teletubbies&lt;/span&gt;:  This show just freaks me out.  The lack of real human words and the overly green scenery reminds me of War of the Worlds (the TV series back in the 80's).  I can't watch it without expecting a big tripod to come over the hill and stomp on La La.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wow Wow Wubzy&lt;/span&gt;:  Annoying voices that sound like they have their noses pinched, stupid gadgets, and the most irritating songs....enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lazytown&lt;/span&gt;:  This almost made number one due to the sheer horrifying combination o&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Su49sANLciI/AAAAAAAAAEk/CdWRrF7l8nw/s1600-h/lazytown-characters-mainImage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 137px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Su49sANLciI/AAAAAAAAAEk/CdWRrF7l8nw/s200/lazytown-characters-mainImage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399320829442617890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;f humans wearing rubber faces, grown men in spandex, and plastic puppets (view a really bad song from the show &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0CHAZJr3OE"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;).  What the hell was the creator thinking when he wrote this show?  Hey, lets get a muscled Swedish guy, put him in blue spandex and have him do splits to music!  And you know what would make it better?  Have a villain in a blue striped, spandex tux (I swear to god) and a little girl in a bright pink hooker wig!  If I wasn't a responsible adult I would be camped out in front of this show with a joint and a box of donuts because you would have to be high to watch it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Caillou&lt;/span&gt;:  I grind my teeth whenever this show comes on. I let Morgan watch it occasionally because she enjoys it.  A lot of people are probably reading this (ok, four people) and thinking 'That cute little boy?  How can this cartoon be bad?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Su4-C6452LI/AAAAAAAAAEs/R6jpeHFFA_U/s1600-h/caillou1_thumbnail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 113px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Su4-C6452LI/AAAAAAAAAEs/R6jpeHFFA_U/s200/caillou1_thumbnail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399321223152392370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;'.  This is the whiniest kid on television.  He does things like stamp his feet, complain, and make his little sister cry and all his parents say is 'Oh Caillou, that is not a nice thing to do...'.  What?  If this was anything close to real life that kid would be in a perpetual time out and be forbidden to speak until he could do so without whining.  And why does he not have any hair?  Did I miss the show about a terrible genetic defect that prevents his hair from growing?  His parents have hair, his sister has hair, all his friends have hair. It is a mystery.... Also, why did the shows creators make the edges of the screen blur?  I feel like the whole cartoon is in a flash back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, I spend too much time thinking about annoying kids shows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-1432355422529940138?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1432355422529940138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=1432355422529940138' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1432355422529940138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1432355422529940138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/11/five-worst-cartoons-in-my-opinion.html' title='The Five Worst Cartoons - In My Opinion'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Su49sANLciI/AAAAAAAAAEk/CdWRrF7l8nw/s72-c/lazytown-characters-mainImage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2948530768129778282</id><published>2009-09-29T06:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T07:07:31.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Underwear for Peace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SsIUSapcP7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/oK9IjxKzzeY/s1600-h/100_1085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SsIUSapcP7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/oK9IjxKzzeY/s320/100_1085.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386890410911874994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had a bad case of bloggers block lately.  I will start thinking of a post in my mind and I decide it sucks so I haven't really been inspired to write anything.  The kids have had a lingering virus lately so between visits to the ER (Leah), frequent doses of Motrin, and constant waiting on them hand and foot I haven't really been feeling creative.&lt;br /&gt;The subject of this post though is driven by desperation.  My three year old has spent the entire summer complaining how most of her clothes annoy her.  They are itchy, too tight, or simply unwearable.  I thought it was just a phase that she would grow out of but I think she is truly bothered by seams and snug clothing.  She has driven me insane on most mornings trying to find something to wear.  Getting her to wear any pants, long sleeved shirts, socks or sneakers has been impossible and I know what people are thinking when we show up to the park on a cold morning in a sleeveless dress and crocs.  I am wondering how many times of her freezing to death it will take before she admits she needs warmer clothes.&lt;br /&gt;The clothes issue I can work with but recently she has been complaining about her underwear and has flat out refused to wear them a couple of times.  This would be ok if we were staying home or just running to store but she really needs to wear them to school and I am weary from all the battles.  So I am on the search for 'Morgan Approved' underwear.  I have tried buying her a bigger size but she hates the way they dig around her legs and I don't think they make boy shorts for toddlers.  I have ordered her some from Hanna Andersson (expensive!) and am going to have a coniption if she won't wear them.  My next idea will be to buy her some boys underwear and see how that goes.&lt;br /&gt;This is what my life has been reduced to:  Spending hours on finding a picky three year old the perfect underwear just so I can have some peace!&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2948530768129778282?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2948530768129778282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2948530768129778282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2948530768129778282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2948530768129778282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/09/underwear-for-peace.html' title='Underwear for Peace'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SsIUSapcP7I/AAAAAAAAAEc/oK9IjxKzzeY/s72-c/100_1085.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-8846218055393416082</id><published>2009-08-24T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T09:28:20.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mouse Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SpK-_IInm7I/AAAAAAAAAEU/_ep5X62g0_Y/s1600-h/0920-mouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SpK-_IInm7I/AAAAAAAAAEU/_ep5X62g0_Y/s320/0920-mouse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373567297131092914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I created a humane trap for our little gray visitor but unfortunately he did not take the bait.  I set up the trap for a week but either he was too lazy to venture down the tunnel or too smart.  I was afraid that if not caught soon our single mouse would quickly turn into a more serious infestation.  So Mr Mouse has gone to visit the big cheese in the sky courtesy of a very fast (and hopefully instant) traditional spring mouse trap.  I thank the hubby for taking care of this while I was away this week since I definitely would not had the courage to do it myself.&lt;br /&gt;I would still recommend this idea of a humane trap to anyone that has a mouse in the house before you try to kill the poor thing.  &lt;a href="http://journal.chrisglass.com/2005/09/how_to_catch_a_.html"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt; is a link to how to make your own humane mouse trap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/Em/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-8846218055393416082?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/8846218055393416082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=8846218055393416082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/8846218055393416082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/8846218055393416082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/08/mouse-update.html' title='Mouse Update'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SpK-_IInm7I/AAAAAAAAAEU/_ep5X62g0_Y/s72-c/0920-mouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-156249852082112571</id><published>2009-08-14T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T10:00:37.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Mice and Men....or Dogs</title><content type='html'>We have a mouse in the house.  I have not seen said mouse or heard any suspicious sounds but this is how I know:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby insisted that the black small crumbs on my kitchen counter was indeed mouse poop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The small holes in some bags of food on the floor of my pantry were not victims of Luke's constant mission of trying to eat himself to death but due to little, gnawing, mouse teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did see a mouse in our garage recently, probably was disturbed by the construction in the back yard and now it seems he has moved somewhere in the kitchen.  Horrified by the thought of some little, grey, furry rodent invading my kitchen every night I have to trap the little bugger.  Yes, this is me the animal lover.  I realized that Libby, the dog that has attacked every type of small wildlife in my backyard, is slipping in her old age.  The dog doesn't miss one leaf blowing by the window but is oblivious to the fact that her territory has been invaded by a active rodent.  Ack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after a quick Google search I found a homemade humane contraption that will catch him and I won't have to deal with a dead rodent or one that is half alive stuck to a glue trap (ugh!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I set it up last night but so far he has not taken the bait.  Will set it up again tonight and will post when (if!) I catch him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-156249852082112571?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/156249852082112571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=156249852082112571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/156249852082112571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/156249852082112571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/08/of-mice-and-menor-dogs.html' title='Of Mice and Men....or Dogs'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2540380917592940879</id><published>2009-07-27T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T10:00:02.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Mysteries in Life</title><content type='html'>These are the thoughts that have popped into my head recently about the mysteries in my life....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Why is the 'Fast Play' option on a Disney movie much, much slower than just going to the DVD menu and pressing 'Play'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  How is it that a man can insulate an entire room in one day but can't make two kids lunches in a space of two hours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Why does it always seem that when a car accident is caused by a drunk driver, the drunk driver always survives?  Is it because they are drunk?  Has anyone done a study on this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  How do people figure that exercise makes you more energetic?  It just makes me tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Why do manufacturers put so many nooks and crannies in sippy cups that require a toothpick to try to clean stale milk out of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Why does it take more than two parents to handle two children?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  Why can't we fire all the politicians in New Jersey and start fresh?  I figure a good clean sweep is what we need.  Oh, well they did arrest 44 of them, so I guess that is a start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  How does my house get to be full of clutter in the space of day, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;everyday&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody have any more mysteries?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2540380917592940879?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2540380917592940879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2540380917592940879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2540380917592940879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2540380917592940879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/07/great-mysteries-in-life.html' title='Great Mysteries in Life'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-174402451486906334</id><published>2009-07-15T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T11:18:31.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rainbow Bridge</title><content type='html'>I have blogged about my aging Golden Retriever, &lt;a href="http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-oldy-goldy.html"&gt;Luke&lt;/a&gt;, before.  However, this post is a tribute to my mum's dog, Gertie, who recently passed away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid we had a big, black dog named Churchill (who was named after the tank, not the man) but after he passed my parents did not want to get another.  "We will never find another like him" was what I remember hearing.  So two countries, a divorce, and many years later my mum decided that she was ready to finally get another dog.  I was volunteering for the &lt;a href="http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/NJ167.html"&gt;Gloucester County Animal Shelter&lt;/a&gt; at the time so mum came to visit one day and took a shine to the very large doberman mix that I was babysitting.  He was a young, active dog and I did not think that this would be a good fit for her but mum was insistent.  However, another person had first dibs on the doberman mix and went with a different family.  Mum was disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks later, Mum and I visited the shelter one night and visited with several of the dogs there.  We saw a lovely hound mix that was just not right and then we visited with a Rottweiler that was five years old.  We took her outside on a leash so that we could get a better feel for the dog.  The dog was very relaxed and seemed so happy to get any kind of attention.  The worker at the shelter told us that the Rottweiler had been labeled as 'cage aggressive' by some of the other workers at the shelter but that she had never seen an signs of it.  Mum and I stared at this happy, smiley dog in disbelief and Mum promptly decided that this was her new dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Gertie came home a couple of days later after being spayed.  We discussed the chance that she could exhibit some aggressiveness and that Mum should be firm and careful with her.  After all, she was a cage aggressive Rottweiler!!  We should not have worried, Gertie was a model dog, the most &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-Rottweiler I have ever met.  She loved to be walked and ride in the car.  She went hiking like she was born wearing a backpack and even tried swimming in the pool for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gertie was totally unfazed by chaos, of course the fact that she turned out to be quite deaf helped with that.  She was a slow, laid back kind of dog that everyone loved to pet but could be whipped up into quite a frenzy by the mere sight of a flashlight.  There is nothing funnier than seeing a ninety pound Rottweiler spinning around like a mechanical bull after the sunlight shining through the chandelier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3xQMQNQYI/AAAAAAAAAEM/VIfPEzLQa8M/s1600-h/6448_1129647055778_1665273963_326426_6390750_s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 117px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3xQMQNQYI/AAAAAAAAAEM/VIfPEzLQa8M/s320/6448_1129647055778_1665273963_326426_6390750_s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358704392110162306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to Gertie, the dog that took over where Churchill left off.  May your days be bright at the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rainbow_Bridge_%28pets%29"&gt;Rainbow Bridge&lt;/a&gt; and the hot dogs plentiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-174402451486906334?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/174402451486906334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=174402451486906334' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/174402451486906334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/174402451486906334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/07/rainbow-bridge.html' title='The Rainbow Bridge'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3xQMQNQYI/AAAAAAAAAEM/VIfPEzLQa8M/s72-c/6448_1129647055778_1665273963_326426_6390750_s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-1730362644383441932</id><published>2009-07-14T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T17:59:23.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not me Tuesday!</title><content type='html'>A blog that I follow normally does a &lt;a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net/"&gt;'Not Me Monday'&lt;/a&gt; activity but I am as usual a day late and a dollar short.  The idea is to blog about the embarrassing or lazy things that I did (not) do this past week.  This is my first ever recap of the things that I did &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I certainly did &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; pretend not to notice as my Golden Retriever swiped some of Morgan's cereal out of her breakfast bowl so I did not have to get up to get her more.  I also did not let the same dog drink out of Leah's empty bottle because it was keeping her quiet and entertained for more than five minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="zemanta-img zemanta-action-dragged" style="margin: 1em; float: right; display: block; width: 310px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Toiletpapier_%28Gobran111%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a5/Toiletpapier_%28Gobran111%29.jpg/300px-Toiletpapier_%28Gobran111%29.jpg" alt="Toilet paper" style="border: medium none ; display: block;" height="225" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="zemanta-img-attribution"&gt;Image via &lt;a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Toiletpapier_%28Gobran111%29.jpg"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; use a onesie out of the laundry hamper after I peed because there was no toilet paper.  I would never do something so gross to avoid having to run down the stairs with my pants around my ankles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; let the dogs pee on my husbands beloved front lawn because he annoyed me by not taking out said dogs.  Nor did I recap that story to a friend and laugh hysterically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; put earplugs in my ears after trying for two hours to get my 10 month old to sleep unsuccessfully.  And I didn't feel guilty in the slightest after I discovered she had a double ear infection.  I am cold like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha!!  Pretty good week....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;div style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"&gt;&lt;a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://reblog.zemanta.com/zemified/169c873e-a94c-4c92-aab3-ddba0afc76f7/" title="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]"&gt;&lt;img style="border: medium none ; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=169c873e-a94c-4c92-aab3-ddba0afc76f7" alt="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"&gt;&lt;/script&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/778847320094706439-1730362644383441932?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1730362644383441932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=1730362644383441932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1730362644383441932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1730362644383441932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/07/not-me-tuesday.html' title='Not me Tuesday!'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2391594788896432205</id><published>2009-06-15T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T18:22:39.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Alcohol Lesson</title><content type='html'>I read a comment on the front of my local newspaper, &lt;a class="zem_slink" href="http://courierpostonline.com/" title="Courier-Post" rel="homepage"&gt;The Courier Post&lt;/a&gt;, the other day that got me thinking.  In fact I was surprised at how different this point of view was from my own.  Of course, I am usually shocked that not everyone agrees with me all of the time.  It was from a mother that said she was shocked that her friend was drinking a wine cooler in front of her daughter and let her have a sip.  She even mentioned that she had thought about calling DYFS about it but decided that it was too extreme.  You think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frankly, I am surprised that women with children are not drunk more often.  After a day full of excruciating conversations with three year olds and hours spent dragging the nine month old off of various objects I could easily dive into a vat of beer and spend a few minutes chugging but I digress :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to drink a fair amount on weekends (before children) and rarely touched a drop during the week.  Now I am more&lt;p class="zemanta-img zemanta-action-dragged" style="margin: 1em; float: right; display: block; width: 310px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Leffe_900px.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/96/Leffe_900px.jpg/300px-Leffe_900px.jpg" alt="Leffe, a Belgian beer, served in branded glasses" style="border: medium none ; display: block;" height="400" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="zemanta-img-attribution"&gt;Image via &lt;a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Leffe_900px.jpg"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; likely to have a single beer after the kids go to bed a couple of nights a week and maybe two on a weekend night.  It is not often that they do see me have an alcoholic beverage but that is not by design just a desire to savor my drink in peace. &lt;br /&gt;I feel that if you hide the fact that you do indeed imbibe responsibly you are doing a disservice to your kids.  I am not suggesting that you get loaded in front of them but show them a good example of enjoying a treat (one that is for adults only).  Alcohol is a fact of life after you turn 21 and lets face it, before that even.  If you hide the fact that you drink alcohol or make it a mysterious subject you are only encouraging the taboo factor that will make it irresistible to kids.   &lt;div style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"&gt;&lt;a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://reblog.zemanta.com/zemified/19a26033-5009-4aaf-b89e-4870324c49e6/" title="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]"&gt;&lt;img style="border: medium none ; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=19a26033-5009-4aaf-b89e-4870324c49e6" alt="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"&gt;&lt;/script&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/778847320094706439-2391594788896432205?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2391594788896432205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2391594788896432205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2391594788896432205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2391594788896432205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/alcohol-lesson.html' title='The Alcohol Lesson'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-7529204274504743198</id><published>2009-06-11T10:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:43:55.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love Wipeout!</title><content type='html'>If you have never watched the dumbest, funniest show on TV right now (god knows there isn't anything else worth watching) check out the clip below.  This show is definitely mindless, hysterical entertainment.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://widgets.abc.go.com/o/48bda4baaf82f1d1/4a3141287b6e5a80/48bda4baaf82f1d1/786ce4e2/widget.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-7529204274504743198?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/7529204274504743198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=7529204274504743198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/7529204274504743198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/7529204274504743198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-love-wipeout.html' title='I love Wipeout!'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2245909430435125867</id><published>2009-06-08T11:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T12:04:18.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flying with Sunglasses</title><content type='html'>Since our backyard is out of commission lately due to the construction work going on, we have been spending a lot of time in the front yard.  Yesterday I washed and brushed the dogs, dragged out the kiddie pool and the lawn chairs into the drive way.  Yes, we have become &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;those damn&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;neighbors&lt;/span&gt; with all their stuff on the front lawn.&lt;br /&gt;So here are some pics of our nice day outside.  Leah loves wearing her sunglasses (when she forgets she has them on) and Morgan started wearing hers just because her sister does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Si1e-Juh-BI/AAAAAAAAACw/rwz7vbC6ltU/s1600-h/100_0822.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Si1e-Juh-BI/AAAAAAAAACw/rwz7vbC6ltU/s200/100_0822.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345032754614630418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Si1fXZ4ymKI/AAAAAAAAAC4/t2zFumw0RVU/s1600-h/100_0824.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Si1fXZ4ymKI/AAAAAAAAAC4/t2zFumw0RVU/s200/100_0824.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345033188449360034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Si1fjiJbh3I/AAAAAAAAADA/RH_btCUJTsw/s1600-h/100_0839.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Si1fjiJbh3I/AAAAAAAAADA/RH_btCUJTsw/s200/100_0839.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345033396825065330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't Leah look like she is about to get into a prop plane and fly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of flying, I caught this picture of Morgan taking flight in our hallway the other night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Si1gHuEfLYI/AAAAAAAAADI/2dZhlve0HIs/s1600-h/100_0813.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Si1gHuEfLYI/AAAAAAAAADI/2dZhlve0HIs/s200/100_0813.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345034018500849026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2245909430435125867?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2245909430435125867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2245909430435125867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2245909430435125867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2245909430435125867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/flying-with-sunglasses.html' title='Flying with Sunglasses'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Si1e-Juh-BI/AAAAAAAAACw/rwz7vbC6ltU/s72-c/100_0822.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-219794459217073098</id><published>2009-06-05T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T13:29:23.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky Brand Jeans - Product of the Month</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SimAF4mIgII/AAAAAAAAACo/41igcf5t4A4/s1600-h/LuckyJeans"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SimAF4mIgII/AAAAAAAAACo/41igcf5t4A4/s200/LuckyJeans" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343943271431831682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like most people I have had about 36 different types of jeans over the years.  Levis, Gap, Old Navy, to name a few.  About 7 years ago I splurged on a pair of &lt;a href="http://www.luckybrand.com/"&gt;Lucky Jeans&lt;/a&gt; while in Las Vegas and to this day they are still my favorite jeans.  They aren't cheap (about $100 a pair) but they are hand stitched and just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;feel&lt;/span&gt; like quality jeans.  For the years that I have worn them they have definitely paid for themselves.  The &lt;a href="http://www.luckybrand.com/Sweet-N-Low-Jeans/LBX15533,default,pd.html?cgid=womensJeans&amp;amp;selectedColor=490x700"&gt;Sweet n Low&lt;/a&gt; type are my personal favorite but different cuts fit different people.&lt;br /&gt;I now own four pairs, two I paid full price, two I ordered used on Ebay for $30 a pair.  I am also told that Marshalls and Ross carry them sometimes.  Definitely worth trying on on your next jeans shopping trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-219794459217073098?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/219794459217073098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=219794459217073098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/219794459217073098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/219794459217073098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/product-of-month-lucky-brand-jeans.html' title='Lucky Brand Jeans - Product of the Month'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SimAF4mIgII/AAAAAAAAACo/41igcf5t4A4/s72-c/LuckyJeans' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-7654988605809102486</id><published>2009-05-24T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T20:45:52.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The path not taken...</title><content type='html'>Everyone in their life will have a time (or two, three, four) where a decision will clearly take them in one direction or another.  A fork in the road if you be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we got married, the hubby and I almost went in two different directions.  He wanted to go one way and I was not willing to swallow my pride to stop him.  We worked out our course in the end and I am sure you know where that path went to.  Marriage, a new house, a new dog, a new job for one of us, and two children (these are just the highlights of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I am sure I am not the only one, I wonder where I would be had I taken the other road.  I figure I would still live in our townhouse and it would be decorated in a fabulous, funky way that didn't have to take into consideration another person's perspective.  I would have been home with my dog, Daisy, when she passed instead of on my honeymoon.  I would have a fulfilling, absorbing, successful career.  I would be a shopaholic and indulge in volunteering on my free weekends.  My car would involve something with leather, 300hp, and six gears.  Vacations would be with friends in exotic locales with ruins to visit and sights to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In real life, my house is definitely a compromise of functionality and desire.  My job is dwindling due to economic reasons and my current lack of ambition.  Shopping has taken a back seat to spending 30 minutes by myself relaxing and I just don't have it in me to give time for volunteering.  My car is an SUV (ok, station wagon!) that I love but isn't drawing any looks of envy anytime soon and vacations involve somewhere that has a pool and kid friendly eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the things above are mostly assumptions.  I could have stepped out of said townhouse one morning and got run over by the lawnmower, but I digress.  My point is, is that while I wonder, dream and debate on what might have been it comes down to one thing:  I love the road I have taken.  I had my doubts at first but I love and embrace the chaotic life that I lead.  My husband and my beautiful kids are the highlights of my day and I could not imagine any day without them.  Even the dogs make my life (most of the time!) feel complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So cheers to all those who take the road less traveled, I am happy on this one :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-7654988605809102486?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/7654988605809102486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=7654988605809102486' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/7654988605809102486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/7654988605809102486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/path-not-taken.html' title='The path not taken...'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3257256367072663550</id><published>2009-05-21T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T18:33:20.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Snacks!</title><content type='html'>I try to eat healthy most of time but the fact is I eat too many carbs, not enough fruit, and too much sugar. My weaknesses include chocolate (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;good&lt;/span&gt; chocolate) and salty snacks (crackers or chips).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in my quest for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;healthier&lt;/span&gt; snacks here are a couple that I have come across that I thought were worthy of sharing.  I stress the word &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;healthier &lt;/span&gt;because they are not what I would consider nutritious snacks.  Food in it's natural form is much better for you (fresh fruit, raw vegetables, whole grains, etc) and while I do strive to eat these things I am never going to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; kind of healthy person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the kind of person who will lick the chocolate off the plate when I get a good chocolate souffle&lt;br /&gt;I am the kind of person who goes and swims for 45 minutes and follows it up with a Cadbury bar, some Cheez It's and a diet coke.&lt;br /&gt;I am the kind of person who tries to eat as many organic things as I can but doesn't think twice about a burger and fries at Wendy's&lt;br /&gt;I am the kind of person who is never happier than at mealtime (my husband comments on this all the time)&lt;br /&gt;What kind of healthy person are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that you know not to expect too much below is my new favorite sweet snack.  I am an absolute chocolate nut and this is a good alternative to eating an entire chocolate bar.  I start with Stoneyfield Farm Organic lowfat yogurt in Banilla in a bowl, slice half a banana in and sprinkle with Ghiradelli chocolate chips.  Totally awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/ShX5o0TzyZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/AtrzFYJmibc/s1600-h/100_0740.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/ShX5o0TzyZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/AtrzFYJmibc/s200/100_0740.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338447412949404050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next one is a good salty option instead of chips or crackers.  I do have to put some in a bowl or I can easily eat half a bag before noticing.  Trader Joe's Unburied Treasure Corn Puffs in Sour Cream and Onion (the cheddar cheese is just as good too).  At $2 a bag you can't beat the price either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/ShX7wJ6xBuI/AAAAAAAAACg/6UoF_YF-Ct4/s1600-h/100_0742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/ShX7wJ6xBuI/AAAAAAAAACg/6UoF_YF-Ct4/s200/100_0742.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338449738032285410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-3257256367072663550?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3257256367072663550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3257256367072663550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3257256367072663550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3257256367072663550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-new-favorite-snacks.html' title='Snacks!'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/ShX5o0TzyZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/AtrzFYJmibc/s72-c/100_0740.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2957370251507099959</id><published>2009-05-13T17:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T18:11:17.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Infantile Myofibromatosis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SgtvlpH-IrI/AAAAAAAAACI/aLGaTcZbtK8/s1600-h/100_0534.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SgtvlpH-IrI/AAAAAAAAACI/aLGaTcZbtK8/s200/100_0534.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335480876035613362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was recently reminded of when my now 3 year old was diagnosed with infantile myofibromatosis when she was about 9 months old.  This is a condition that comprises of fibrous lumps in infants or small children.  The lumps usually appear as an infant and then disappear by 2 or 3 years old with no intervention needed.  In rare cases the lumps can appear on internal organs which would require surgery to remove them or it could be dangerous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a fairly rare condition and I remember scouring the internet looking for information but there is not much out there.  I thought I would blog about my experience and how we went about getting the diagnosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had noticed a lump on her back in the bath that was long and about 2 inches in length.  I was not immediately concerned but when a long lump appeared under her arm and two round lumps on her lower stomach I took her to the pediatrican.  The lump on the back and arm also had hair growing on it.  My pediatrician did not know what they were and referred me to a dermatologist.  The dermatologist took a lump biopsy and the lab came back with the diagnosis of Infantile Myofibromatosis.  I was then referred to a Pediatric Dermatologist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was only one Pediatric Dermatologist in the immediate area and he couldn't get Morgan in until two months away.  He also did not take medical insurance (or at least not my Aetna).  I told the receptionist to ask the Dr if he would be willing to squeeze in a case of Infantile Myofibramatosis, knowing it was rare and that he would want to see it for himself.  Low and behold an appointment was made for a week away :-)  The Ped Derm Dr admitted that he had only seen two cases of it in his medical experience and knew about as much as we did about the disease (which was quite a lot by then because I had read everything I could find).  He told us to go to a Pediatric Oncologist and have them check her over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took Morgan to a oncologist in the area and she ordered a full body MRI to make sure that no lumps were anywhere else on her body or organs.  We made an appointment at CHOP for the MRI and they had to put Morgan under to do the scan that took about 2 hours (she was now about 15 months).  Fortunately, there were no more lumps than what we already knew about and we just waited for them to fade.  Now, two years later, the lumps in her stomach are gone and the ones on her back and arm are very tiny (probably scar tissue from the biopsy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did go back to the Pediatric Dermatologist months later at his request to be a "Guess the diagnosis" case study for his interns.  Morgan got a kick out of it  I remember her standing in the room in her diaper waving two croissants that she got from the breakfast buffet in the office.  She would giggle whenever the interns touched her lumps.  I don't think they had a clue what was wrong with her :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2957370251507099959?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2957370251507099959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2957370251507099959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2957370251507099959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2957370251507099959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/infantile-myofibromatosis.html' title='Infantile Myofibromatosis'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SgtvlpH-IrI/AAAAAAAAACI/aLGaTcZbtK8/s72-c/100_0534.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2996881092775078683</id><published>2009-05-12T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T06:58:19.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kayleigh Anne Freeman - Peace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://kayleighannefreeman.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have written about this little girl &lt;a href="http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/lack-of-empathy.html"&gt;before&lt;/a&gt; on my blog and my heart broke when I read that  &lt;a href="http://kayleighannefreeman.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kayleigh Anne Freeman&lt;/a&gt; passed away yesterday.  I feel blessed and lucky that I have two beautiful, healthy children and will never take that for granted.  Rest in peace Kayleigh and may your spirit live on in the people you inspired, myself included.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2996881092775078683?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2996881092775078683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2996881092775078683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2996881092775078683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2996881092775078683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/kayleigh-anne-freeman-rip.html' title='Kayleigh Anne Freeman - Peace'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2259841324381213541</id><published>2009-05-05T16:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T16:53:30.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swimming in Desperation</title><content type='html'>A few days ago I bought myself a new bathing suit, cap, and goggles with the intention of joining a local gym with a pool.  I had recently taken up running as my new form of exercise but it is doing a serious number on my joints (ack!  I am getting old).  I had been a competitive swimmer for most of my younger years and I have to admit I miss the mindless, soothing act of stroking up and down the pool. &lt;br /&gt;I have been mildly cranky lately due to my eight month old waking up 4-5 times a night for no particular reason.  I have been relying on the half hour nap here and there to keep myself sane but today both children decided not to take their afternoon nap.  So after I wasted an hour and a half trying to convince both of them that it was indeed time for a nap, I gave up.  I positioned my three year old in front of her toys and strict instructions not to bother me while I had some 'quiet time'.  I entertained the eight month old by throwing different toys her way and having a Baby Einstein DVD on.  This did not work for more than five minutes and just when I thought I would take the car and drive away never to return, salvation walked through the door.  Hubby came home early!  I decided that I HAD to get out, but where to?  I packed up my new suit, goggles and cap, threw a towel in my OLD swim bag and practically ran out the door (leaving hubby looking baffled).  Fifteen minutes later I was feeling right at home in a heavily chlorinated pool with the ever present senior aquatic class next to my lane rope.  Ahhh, home sweet pool.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2259841324381213541?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2259841324381213541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2259841324381213541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2259841324381213541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2259841324381213541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/swimming-in-desperation.html' title='Swimming in Desperation'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3264852084839620450</id><published>2009-04-22T17:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T17:34:54.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kayleigh Anne Freeman</title><content type='html'>I was very upset today to read in one of my favorite blogs that &lt;a href="http://kayleighannefreeman.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kayleigh Freeman&lt;/a&gt; has taken a turn for the worse.  I have been reading her families blog for so long that I almost feel like I know them.  I have been cheered when Kayleigh has done well and been sad when she has to endure more pain.  She has battled heart and lung problems but now has suffered brain damage and it does seem to be an unknown and bleak prognosis.  To think that she may not ever go home or at least have some semblance of a normal life makes me so very sad.&lt;br /&gt;I read a post today that some person wrote that they thought that Kayleigh's parents were putting her through unnecessary pain and suffering.  That Aimee and Adam should have made 'the hard decision' instead of prolonging the inevitable. This post filled me with anger.  Have people no sympathy?  In the age of faceless chatting via Facebook, IM's, and texting have we lost the filter of empathy that should be between our brains and our mouths?  Even if that is a valid opinion (which it is total crap), keep it to yourself!  This is someone's dear daughter that may not ever survive that you are so casually commenting on a board for everyone to read.&lt;br /&gt;I have also read comments on Kayleigh's blog that people have posted that talk about how her parents are exploiting her situation for their own gain.  Really?  I wasn't aware that wanting to share your daughter's inspiring, amazing story with other people would be considered exploitation.  Kayleigh's father is too much a faithful man to tell these people what should be said, so I will.  Take your judgemental, idiotic, thoughtless comments and shove them up your ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-3264852084839620450?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3264852084839620450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3264852084839620450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3264852084839620450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3264852084839620450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/lack-of-empathy.html' title='Kayleigh Anne Freeman'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-113235646461564705</id><published>2009-04-18T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T16:54:57.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Comcast is dropping NFL Network</title><content type='html'>My husband refuses to join Facebook, blogger, or twitter based on the grounds that it is 'a waste of his time'.  However, he is so peeved about Comcast canceling the NFL Network channel that he asked me to post this rant to my blog.  I have no knowledge on this subject, so read at your own leisure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Most of you may or may not have heard about the dispute over the NFL Network. Comcast has decided to discontinue this channel after May 1st.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  This argument between Comcast and the NFL is ridiculous and only hurts the consumer, or the fan, in the end…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I have heard rumors about Comcast being upset that they were not given rights to carry games on its own Versus network and they also want a shot at carrying the NFL Ticket (exclusive rights are owned by DirecTV through 2014 – which is a joke I don’t have time to discuss). The NFL is upset that Comcast is charging consumers a premium to view the NFL Network as part of a Sports Tier package (read: extra money).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Neither Comcast, nor the NFL for that matter, is thinking about me. In the end, I am the one that is hurt. I am a self proclaimed sports geek that loves watching the NFL Network. As a matter of fact it is on right now in the background as I write this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I guess I have to place most of the blame on Comcast. Just go ahead and agree to the NFL’s terms. Put this channel in your basic digital package and hide the extra $0.70 per customer in there somewhere. It is not like anyone is going to notice (most cable bills approach $150-$200 anyway -  which is another joke I don’t have time to discuss). C’mon, you carry the Golf Channel in the basic digital package!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Or is it that Comcast fears that many customers will drop their $4.95 Sports Tier Package without the NFL Network. That is more likely. I know I would. Honestly, who cares about the MLB Network, soccer, the NHL Network, tennis (well maybe some people do but they have the right to pay for it if they want).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;With that said, some of the blame should go to the NFL Network as well. I really don’t care that Comcast puts the NFL Network in a package. I am more than willing to pay the extra $4.95 a month. Again, how much does $5.00 affect my $150+ bill anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;C’mon kids, work this out. Think about who you are hurting in the end… Thanks for reading my rant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thanks,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ryan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-113235646461564705?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/113235646461564705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=113235646461564705' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/113235646461564705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/113235646461564705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/special-guest-post.html' title='Comcast is dropping NFL Network'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2766585106977304810</id><published>2009-04-16T17:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T13:34:52.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Newborn Survival Kit</title><content type='html'>I know a few people who are currently due to have babies any day now and it got me thinking about what I am going to get for the new additions to the family.  The traditional gifts involve cute baby outfits, diapers, or stuff that your newborn couldn't care less about.  Let's get real here people, the new Mom is the one that needs gifts.  Here is what I wish someone had gotten me in a huge box for those first harrowing weeks (some serious, some wishful thinking):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Huggies disposable washclothes (with the soap built in) and deodorant- because you never get enough time to take a proper shower and even when you do you'd rather take a nap instead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Paper plates, disposable cups, and plastic silverware - who the hell wants to do dishes?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ponytail elastics - this is related to problem number one&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mint gum and chapstick - this is also related to the lack of time for personal hygiene&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Earplugs - because if you are lucky enough to have hubby feed the baby at night you don't want to get woken up anyway&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Food - proper home cooked meals because you will be starving (especially if you are breastfeeding, I have been known to snack on a bowl of cold ziti in the middle of the night)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A maid service - this may be the wishful thinking item but I did actually get this from my mom when Morgan was born and it was the most fabulous thing ever&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;An outfit that you can sleep in and also go to the grocery store in (shoes too)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Food for thought for the next newborn gift you buy :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2766585106977304810?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2766585106977304810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2766585106977304810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2766585106977304810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2766585106977304810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/newborn-survival-kit.html' title='Newborn Survival Kit'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3865096268185227408</id><published>2009-04-14T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T13:07:13.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bloggers Block</title><content type='html'>I can't think of a damn thing to write about since I got home from vacation.  Everything seems boring or trivial.  In order to keep the few people around that read this blog I have to come up with something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Easter was this past weekend and if I never see another bunny or colored egg I will die a happy person.  I have eaten at least 10 hard boiled eggs in the last week and the impact on my digestive system is painful.  I think the dye on the eggs are making my vision blurry.  Morgan crashed hard on Sunday at 5:30pm after two days of easter egg hunting and didn't wake up until 7:30 the next day. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Morgan also figured out how to fart on command.  This is the same kid that can't figure out how to blow her nose or keep her mouth closed under water.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am waiting for the excavator to come and dig a giant 8 ft deep hole in my back yard for an addition onto our house.  In the meantime it is hard enough to keep my golden retriever from falling into the 3 foot small hole that is already there.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have my first 5K to run on Saturday and I am praying it will not be windy.  The last thing I need is anything else to slow me down.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;That is about it, will post again soon when something interesting strikes me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-3865096268185227408?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3865096268185227408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3865096268185227408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3865096268185227408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3865096268185227408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/bloggers-block.html' title='Bloggers Block'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-6245235867051682948</id><published>2009-03-14T18:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T18:37:18.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Music Associations</title><content type='html'>I was listening to the radio yesterday and the song 'Sweet Emotion' by Aerosmith came on.  Every time I hear that song it reminds me of the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8dz6-toh2S0"&gt;Mary Catherine Gallagher skit&lt;/a&gt; on Saturday Night Live back in the day.  It got me thinking of all the songs that make me think of something specific every time I hear them.  Here is my 'Music Association' playlist:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Foxy Lady by Jimi Hendrix&lt;/span&gt;:  The scene in Wayne's World where Garth starts dancing in the diner&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stairway to Heaven by Led Zepplin&lt;/span&gt;:  Reminds me of high school dances where you slow dance with a guy at the beginning and then can't decide whether to continue once the song gets faster.&lt;br /&gt;3.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Time of your Life by Green Day&lt;/span&gt;:  The last episode of Seinfeld&lt;br /&gt;4.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen&lt;/span&gt;:  Also a scene in Wayne's World where they are singing it in the Dodge Colt (or whatever that crap blue car was)&lt;br /&gt;5.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Your Song by Elton John&lt;/span&gt;:  My wedding song&lt;br /&gt;6.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joker by Steve Miller Band&lt;/span&gt;:  Bus rides to swim meets in high school where we would all sing along with hand actions too :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure there are others but that is the top six for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-6245235867051682948?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/6245235867051682948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=6245235867051682948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/6245235867051682948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/6245235867051682948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/music-associations.html' title='Music Associations'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-1575810560360435154</id><published>2009-03-08T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T17:10:00.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Office</title><content type='html'>For anyone that watches The Office would know where the title of my blog comes from.  For those of you who don't here is a clip that includes every single 'that's what she said' from The Office.  Love that show!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wLQKsuogUXo"&gt;Click Here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-1575810560360435154?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1575810560360435154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=1575810560360435154' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1575810560360435154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1575810560360435154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/office.html' title='The Office'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3972140247009885899</id><published>2009-03-06T10:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T10:52:58.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Melaleuca-Product of the Month</title><content type='html'>A couple of months ago I joined this company called &lt;a href="http://www.melaleuca.com/ps/index.cfm?f=ps.mainPage"&gt;Malaleuca&lt;/a&gt; that sells natural, eco friendly products as part of a monthly subscription type deal.  It is also a company that sells these subscriptions using an 'Amway' sort of structure.  Personally, I am not that interested in selling it to other people which is why I have not blogged about it until now.  I am interested in buying and using their products because a lot of them have no chemicals or irritants in them.&lt;br /&gt;I was skeptical when I signed up but I figured I could cancel at any time if I was not happy.  So far I am totally impressed with what I have tried.  The cleaners that they make are fantastic and clean better than the other eco-friendly cleaners that I have bought at the grocery store in the past.  In particular, the dishwasher detergent, all purpose cleaner, and glass cleaner are great.  They also have a line of shampoos and body washes that are Sodium Laureth Sulfate free (which is an irritant) that are really good.&lt;br /&gt;They get a thumbs up from me :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-3972140247009885899?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3972140247009885899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3972140247009885899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3972140247009885899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3972140247009885899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/melaleuca-product-of-month.html' title='Melaleuca-Product of the Month'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-1090238731047364737</id><published>2009-03-06T10:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T07:38:30.248-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Things</title><content type='html'>I haven't had anything really good or funny to post about lately so here is a smattering of the goings on in the Renshaw household.&lt;br /&gt;1.  Leah has something called RSV which is a really nasty, mucus filled, feverish cold for babies.  Needless to say, it sucks and no one is sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Morgan has decided that she is scared of sleeping in her room and regularly wanders into our room in the middle of the night.  This is not such a big deal because of point number one.&lt;br /&gt;3.  I am trying to train for a 5K that is in April but have had to cut back this week because my ankles and knees are not doing well.  I guess I really am getting old.&lt;br /&gt;4.  On a good note we have a vacation to Florida coming up in a couple of weeks and I am so looking forward to it.  Heres hoping for good weather!&lt;br /&gt;5.  I got some free stuff!  One of my first posts was about how great Leah's &lt;a href="http://www.miracleblanket.com/164.html"&gt;Miracle Blanket&lt;/a&gt; is and they read the blog so the company is sending me a free blanket!  Love them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-1090238731047364737?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1090238731047364737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=1090238731047364737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1090238731047364737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1090238731047364737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/random-things.html' title='Random Things'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3284443938504127367</id><published>2009-02-25T08:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T09:10:10.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smoking</title><content type='html'>First off, I have no objection to people smoking.  I have been known to smoke on and off through my twenties but it never developed into a regular habit for me.  I didn't mind when smoking was allowed in bars in NJ, I figured that was part of the atmosphere.  What I can't stand is smokers that flick their cigarettes out of the car window.  What the hell is wrong with you people?  Does it not occur to you that you are throwing a rolled up piece of paper out the window that is on FIRE?!  Are you not concerned that you may throw it into another car that has the window rolled down? Which has happened to me and it burnt the backseat of my car (god forbid I had any children in the car at the time).  I seriously think that these litter offenders think that a cigarette is unlikely to set anything on fire.  I am pretty sure that owner of the Chilis restaurant in Cherry Hill will disagree with you since it burnt down due to a flicked cigarette butt that landed in the mulched flower bed. &lt;br /&gt;So do me a favor people, carry a cup of water in your car to throw your butts in (and if another cigarette lands in my car again, I will chase down that person and set your gas tank on fire with it).  I thank you in advance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-3284443938504127367?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3284443938504127367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3284443938504127367' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3284443938504127367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3284443938504127367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/smoking.html' title='Smoking'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2188639632405853123</id><published>2009-02-18T12:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T12:49:44.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kiddie Dictionary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SZx0G_N8BSI/AAAAAAAAABg/fjr0czOIhHI/s1600-h/PA250001+%282%29+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SZx0G_N8BSI/AAAAAAAAABg/fjr0czOIhHI/s200/PA250001+%282%29+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304242124533531938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The things that my three year old says sometimes are too funny not to write down.  I want to be able to remember the cute little things that she did ten years from now when she won't want to speak to me at all because I am 'uncool'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  'Pooter' - Definition 'computer'.  Example:  "Mommy, where is my 'puter?" (yes, that makes me laugh hysterically every time she says it, very juvenile of me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  'Glubs' - Def. 'gloves'.  Ex. "I need my hat and glubs to go outside'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  'Boyce' - Def. 'Voice'. Ex.  "I am using my inside boyce'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  'Snoot snacks' - Def. 'fruit snacks'. Ex. "Mommy, I went pee-pee, I want snoot snacks"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just a few words that are very cute when she mispronounces them.  Ever since Leah has been born a lot of our conversations revolve around boobs.  She is fascinated with the whole breastfeeding/pumping that I do and she likes to breastfeed her own baby as well (see picture).  She also thinks that chocolate milk is what comes out of my breasts since that is the kind of milk that she likes. Here is a transcript of a recent conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morgan:  "Mommy, you have big boobies"&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Thank you Morgan"&lt;br /&gt;Morgan:  "I have little boobies"&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Yes you do Morgan"&lt;br /&gt;Morgan: "Daddy has boobies too"&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "(snickering) Yes, Daddy has boobies too"&lt;br /&gt;Morgan:  "Nanna has big boobies and Leah has little boobies"&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "That's true"&lt;br /&gt;Morgan:  "Milk don't come out of my boobies"&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "(holding back laughter) No, milk does not come out of your boobies"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This conversation would have gone on for a lot longer if the phone hadn't rang.  I won't even try to describe the conversation that she tried to have with my mom about Daddy's 'pee-pee'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2188639632405853123?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2188639632405853123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2188639632405853123' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2188639632405853123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2188639632405853123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/kiddie-dictionary.html' title='Kiddie Dictionary'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SZx0G_N8BSI/AAAAAAAAABg/fjr0czOIhHI/s72-c/PA250001+%282%29+%282%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-8623236204415743335</id><published>2009-02-02T11:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T12:29:13.554-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Honesty</title><content type='html'>I received the award below from my friend Heidi and so here is my response:&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Honest Scrap award:&lt;br /&gt;A) First list 10 honest things about yourself - and make it interesting, even if you have to dig deep!&lt;br /&gt;B) Pass the award on to 7 bloggers that you feel embody the spirit of the Honest Scrap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So here's my list:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.  I only work three days a week but I still pay someone to clean my house every two weeks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  Even after having two of my own, I still want to adopt a child&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  I eat healthy things about 80% of the time but I can stuff my face at Wendy's with the best of them and eat chocolate almost every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I always want everyone to like me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I have been known to yell at my 4 month old because she is a crier and sometimes I just can't hear anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I would probably be considered an easygoing person but have a terrible temper with a tendency to throw things at the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I curse in front of my three year old because I just can't help myself sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  I am a good driver (no tickets in years and never an accident...knock on wood!) but I am a habitual back seat driver with my husband because I think he doesn't pay enough attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  I am not good at confrontation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  I am terrified to fly but do it anyway because I like to go different places and I want to be a good example for my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am afraid I don't follow enough blogs to send this to 7 bloggers...will have to find more followers!&lt;br /&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/778847320094706439-8623236204415743335?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/8623236204415743335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=8623236204415743335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/8623236204415743335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/8623236204415743335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/honesty.html' title='Honesty'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2587305011594536038</id><published>2009-02-02T11:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T11:46:48.104-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Vomit Streak.....</title><content type='html'>Yesterday we christened my youngest daughter, Leah.  We had family and friends come over to the house after for lunch and Morgan was so excited that her 'friends' were stopping by.  Unfortunately, at 6:30 in the morning Morgan wanders into our room and announces that she does not feel good and proceeds to throw up in the bathroom.  This continued several times throughout the morning and so she had to stay home from the church even though she felt better by the afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;This is the first time that I have had to deal with a throwing up child.  Morgan has not really thrown up since she was a baby.  It turns out that I am not much help.  All I want to do is hide my eyes and put my fingers in my ears so I can't hear the sounds.  Which by the way is what I have done in the past if Ryan is sick.&lt;br /&gt;I don't really understand the whole throwing up thing because I have not had the pleasure of doing that since I was a really young kid (it's been 25 years!).  How I have gone this long without a good upchuck is anyone's guess.  Even drinking seriously obscene amounts of alchohol in my younger years hasn't illicited anything worse than the dry heaves.&lt;br /&gt;This is one club that I am not in any hurry to join ever again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2587305011594536038?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2587305011594536038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2587305011594536038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2587305011594536038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2587305011594536038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/vomit-streak.html' title='The Vomit Streak.....'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3141254737536451217</id><published>2009-01-10T18:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T19:01:11.034-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Oldy Goldy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SWlfOvwUIHI/AAAAAAAAABY/uZMVgyd-Wug/s1600-h/100_0014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289863944265277554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SWlfOvwUIHI/AAAAAAAAABY/uZMVgyd-Wug/s200/100_0014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SWlfBuDFSxI/AAAAAAAAABQ/xHbSryufK3E/s1600-h/P1010033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289863720468826898" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SWlfBuDFSxI/AAAAAAAAABQ/xHbSryufK3E/s200/P1010033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got our Golden Retriever Luke when he was eight weeks old. Not knowing any better, Ryan picked him out from a 'backyard breeder'. A well meaning family that happened to have two Goldens and decided to breed them without any thought to genetics or breeding standards. He was a very cute puppy and Ryan and I treated him like the kid we didn't have. Pretty soon he was 85 pounds of very active Golden. I walked him every other day and used to throw tennis balls into the kitchen for him to fetch (we didn't have a backyard at the time). In obedience class he was the top of the class. Performing every command perfectly while waiting and drooling for his treat. When we would tell the trainer that he didn't listen to any command at home she didn't believe us. His major drawback has always been food. He is obsessed with it and we have never been able to break him of it. He is a habitual counter surfer and you cannot turn your head without him trying to eat your leftovers right off your plate.  His file at the vet is so big that they couldn't fax it over to his new vet five years ago.  I picked it up and flipped through his file, it was full of things he had eaten over the years:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;A knife (chewed the handle and stuck it in his paw)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;A razor blade (he pooped it out unharmed a day later)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;An entire cheesecake&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;A lighter&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Numerous crayons&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;A pound of spicy sausage (gave him an ulcer)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;5 bagels and the plastic bag&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pounds of paper products&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;A pound of sugar and the bag it was in&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 kitchen chairs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Every cooking utensil and tupperware lid I own has teeth marks in it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now Luke is almost 10 years old and I can't believe it has gone so quickly. He has bad hips, at least 20 cysts covering his body (they do not seem to hurt him), and some seriously stinky flatulence. However, he still enjoys his walks and eats everything that he can get. He has been wonderful to Morgan and Leah and they love him. He has taken his demotion in the attention ranks really well and I feel bad that some days I don't even pet him once. As he slows down in his old age I am realizing that we don't have much time left together and I am trying to make the best of it.&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/778847320094706439-3141254737536451217?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3141254737536451217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3141254737536451217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3141254737536451217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3141254737536451217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-oldy-goldy.html' title='My Oldy Goldy'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SWlfOvwUIHI/AAAAAAAAABY/uZMVgyd-Wug/s72-c/100_0014.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2395664711561679788</id><published>2009-01-10T18:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T18:04:14.129-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Product of the Month - January</title><content type='html'>I realize I am on the lazy side for most things so instead of Product of the Week I will do Product of the Month.&lt;br /&gt;For this month, it is &lt;a href="http://www.burtsbees.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?productId=-88&amp;amp;catalogId=10051&amp;amp;storeId=10001&amp;amp;langId=-1"&gt;Burts Bees Lip Balm&lt;/a&gt;.  It is made of all natural stuff and tastes so nice and minty.  Best of all it makes your lips tingle :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2395664711561679788?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2395664711561679788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2395664711561679788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2395664711561679788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2395664711561679788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/product-of-month-january.html' title='Product of the Month - January'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2510528808455791691</id><published>2008-12-26T10:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T10:13:50.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>I got a new camera for Christmas so I took a lot of pictures.  I included a Quicktime slideshow of the pics.  The quality is not so good as I had to compress it a lot in order to upload it.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-7131b2f6c25c7d93" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7131b2f6c25c7d93%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329936490%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D549210D21F9B84750FC1228F46E071AB05AF7466.34268A8575732251EBB6C68BF1B9A853750E2760%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7131b2f6c25c7d93%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DwLHk5vGRy_kA2LuRJNO4Cv9VdDM&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7131b2f6c25c7d93%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329936490%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D549210D21F9B84750FC1228F46E071AB05AF7466.34268A8575732251EBB6C68BF1B9A853750E2760%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7131b2f6c25c7d93%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DwLHk5vGRy_kA2LuRJNO4Cv9VdDM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2510528808455791691?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=7131b2f6c25c7d93&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2510528808455791691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2510528808455791691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2510528808455791691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2510528808455791691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-6708281195083469650</id><published>2008-12-23T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T11:31:22.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meat!</title><content type='html'>I would be a vegetarian if I thought I would get enough to eat.  Anyone that knows me knows that breakfast, lunch, dinner and two snacks are my favorite part of the day.  I try to buy organic foods when I can afford them and when they are available, especially for the kids.  I do not believe that vaccines are what is causing problems in our children because that theory is based on a small study that has been refuted time and time again (Jenny McCarthy, give it up!).   Rather the pesticides and chemicals that they digest on a regular basis as their immune systems are growing....but I digress.&lt;br /&gt;I recently had the misfortune to read a couple of articles on the awful practices of beef slaughterhouses and the feeding of arsenic to chickens.  Yes, I said arsenic!  So now eating chicken and beef are just not so fun anymore.  I am currently in the process of trying to find a local farm that may sell grass fed or organic meat in bulk.  To buy this meat in the grocery store is ridiculous as it sells for four times as much as non-organic meat.&lt;br /&gt;Anyone have any suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-6708281195083469650?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/6708281195083469650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=6708281195083469650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/6708281195083469650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/6708281195083469650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/12/meat.html' title='Meat!'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-682785004822003639</id><published>2008-12-17T11:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T12:38:01.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith</title><content type='html'>I have not had a very close relationship in my life with God or religion.  Not for lack of trying but I have always had a hard time with things that I can't see or feel and I have never made a meaningful connection.  Sometimes you come across something that helps you remember what the important things are.  This story of &lt;a href="http://www.kayleighannefreeman.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kayleigh Anne Freeman&lt;/a&gt; has strengthened my faith in the good, strong things about people and family.  Even maybe my faith in a higher power.  I am a member of the September 08 birth club on babycenter.com  and this is a story of a newborn that I have followed from the beginning of her birth back in June 2008.  She was born at 1 pound 1 oz and has come through three surgeries to make it to over 5 pounds today.  Unfortunately, she is not doing well now and her parents do not expect her to make it.  Read their blog and be ready to be inspired, sad, and awed by their strength and love.&lt;br /&gt;I will be offering all my prayers for this family and hopefully you do to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-682785004822003639?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/682785004822003639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=682785004822003639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/682785004822003639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/682785004822003639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/12/faith.html' title='Faith'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-1997404874840442923</id><published>2008-12-15T19:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T19:50:24.707-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Binky Fairy Continued....</title><content type='html'>The Binky Fairy visited a couple of nights ago and left Morgan a new blankie and a movie.  Morgan was fascinated by the 'pixie dust' left by the Binky Fairy on the mailbox (glitter) and the note that the fairy left.  She has been doing really well without her binky and has only asked for it once.  She is a little more hyped up at bedtime than usual but I guess that is because she is trying to figure out how to soothe without her binky.  So I will claim the Binky Fairy to be a success!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-1997404874840442923?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1997404874840442923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=1997404874840442923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1997404874840442923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1997404874840442923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/12/binky-fairy-continued.html' title='The Binky Fairy Continued....'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-8014385655115328753</id><published>2008-12-10T09:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:32:38.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Binky Fairy</title><content type='html'>My almost three year old still has a binky.  I know, I know, horrors of horrors she still has a binky!!  She uses it at night and in the car.  I have had a hard time taking it away from her because she loves it so much and I can't think of a really good reason that she shouldn't have it.  Contrary to popular opinion the binky will not mess up her teeth permanently unless they are adult teeth.  I remember when my Dad and brother would hide my blankie when I was younger (they thought I was too old at six to still have one) and it upset me so much that I hate to do the same thing to Morgan.  I do think that it is time now though as it seems to becoming more of a crutch than something soothing. &lt;br /&gt;This is where the idea of the Binky Fairy came up.  I saw the idea on an episode of the SuperNanny and thought this was a great idea.  I want Morgan to give up the binky herself rather than me having to take it from her.  So next week we are going to gather up all the binky's and put them in a special envelope addressed to the Binky Fairy.  The Fairy will collect the binky's and give them to babies that don't have any.  In return for Morgan's generosity the fairy will leave a gift in the mailbox.  I will let you know how it goes.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-8014385655115328753?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/8014385655115328753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=8014385655115328753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/8014385655115328753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/8014385655115328753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/12/binky-fairy.html' title='The Binky Fairy'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-4890841395112227438</id><published>2008-12-03T18:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T18:14:16.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Product of the Week 3</title><content type='html'>I started buying Baby Legs for Morgan when she was an infant.  They are like leg warmers for babies.  They make diaper changes easy and are great for kids starting to crawl.  I get so many compliments on them everybody loves them.  &lt;a href="http://store.babylegs.com/catalog/New"&gt;Check them out&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-4890841395112227438?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/4890841395112227438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=4890841395112227438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/4890841395112227438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/4890841395112227438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/12/product-of-week-3.html' title='Product of the Week 3'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-4879245596870054686</id><published>2008-12-03T18:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T18:10:52.175-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slacker</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in a while because I have been a tad crazed.  Leah's first Thanksgiving was good.  We ate at my Dad and Gloria's and the food as usual was delicious.  I didn't get to enjoy it as much as I would like as I had to eat with a baby in one hand.  Oh well, at least I didn't have to cook.....I did make a chocolate fondue which was absolutely awesome.  There is something about a huge pot of melted chocolate that makes me want to dip all sorts of things in it.  Get your minds out of the gutter people, I meant food!  It does make me wonder if spending all day cooking is worth it for the twenty minutes that people spend eating it.  Hopefully I never have to host Thanksgiving, I would probably buy the turkey precooked :-)  Speaking of precooked turkey's, the Jennie-O turkey commercials for their pre-cooked turkey's are hysterical!  &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0OZvjeMiUM"&gt;Click here to watch it&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-4879245596870054686?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/4879245596870054686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=4879245596870054686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/4879245596870054686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/4879245596870054686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/12/slacker.html' title='Slacker'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-1670362115807229800</id><published>2008-11-23T06:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T06:15:36.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Product of the Week 2</title><content type='html'>This week I am going to feature the shampoo that I got at the salon before the baby was born.  I have tried a TON of different shampoos and conditioners (salon and drugstore) over my lifetime and this makes my hair so soft even I was impressed.  It is called &lt;a href="http://store.hello-gorgeous.net/hesehasosh13.html?productid=hesehasosh13&amp;amp;channelid=FROOG"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Healthy Sexy Hair Soymilk Shampoo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://store.hello-gorgeous.net/hesehasosh13.html?productid=hesehasosh13&amp;amp;channelid=FROOG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and Conditioner.  I have dry hair and this is great for it but I think the shampoo would be good for hair of any type.  The conditioner is a little heavy so you only have to use a tiny bit.  This makes up for the salon price of it though because it will last a lot longer.  Smells fantastic too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-1670362115807229800?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1670362115807229800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=1670362115807229800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1670362115807229800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/1670362115807229800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/11/product-of-week-2.html' title='Product of the Week 2'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-4680914481995075833</id><published>2008-11-19T07:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T08:05:44.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breastfeeding</title><content type='html'>After breastfeeding my first daughter for a year and currently breastfeeding my two month old, I am definitely an advocate for it.  I enjoy it but I don't think that it is for everyone.  I am not like those fanatical lactation consultants that I am sure every mother has encountered at the hospital (not all of them are like that, I can assure you).  It seems that every time someone finds out that I am breastfeeding they feel the urge to explain to me why they did not breastfeed their child.  I am not the breastfeeding police, I do not need to hear any excuses.  We are all capable of doing it and rarely is there a proper medical reason that a woman could not breastfeed.  If you don't want to breastfeed or you are not comfortable with it that is fine, just say that.  Women should not have to feel guilt over a decision that involves their body nor should their feel the need to justify to a 'Feeder'.  Stand strong with your choices!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-4680914481995075833?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/4680914481995075833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=4680914481995075833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/4680914481995075833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/4680914481995075833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/11/breastfeeding.html' title='Breastfeeding'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2694576333781518881</id><published>2008-11-19T07:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T07:57:01.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah Hah!!</title><content type='html'>Last night my two month old slept for nine hours straight.  I had that 'bolt out of bed' moment at 4:30am when I realized she hadn't woke me up but she was still sleeping peacefully.  Who would have thought my formerly cranky girl would have done this so soon?  Makes me proud :-)  My two year old made me proud yesterday too.  We had to get our annual flu shots and apart from screaming down the place she sat very still like the nurse told her to and got her shot.  Much better than the kid next to us who tried to run away mid-shot.  Ow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2694576333781518881?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2694576333781518881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2694576333781518881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2694576333781518881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2694576333781518881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/11/ah-hah.html' title='Ah Hah!!'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2361023951641214737</id><published>2008-11-16T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T15:49:49.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dogs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SSCxIUwYDTI/AAAAAAAAAA8/NKLzVnuxq78/s1600-h/P1010053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 236px; height: 223px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SSCxIUwYDTI/AAAAAAAAAA8/NKLzVnuxq78/s320/P1010053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269406320592162098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my question, do dogs know how to push your buttons or is it just coincedence?  Luke, my nine year old Golden, is driving me insane.  Currently he has an E collar on and that alone is annoying me.  He has no sense of how big his head is now and is constantly crashing into walls and doors.  His food stealing habit is way worse and no matter what I do he is constantly cruising the kitchen and floors for food.  Now he has taken to eating dirt.  Not just dirt, mulch encrusted mud from the backyard.  This dirt he chews on throughout the evening because it gets stuck in his teeth and sounds awful when he bites down.  THis dirt also gets stuck in the e-collar and I am constantly cleaning it.  On the upside, my other dog Libby is looking like a perfect canine right now.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2361023951641214737?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2361023951641214737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2361023951641214737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2361023951641214737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2361023951641214737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/11/dogs.html' title='Dogs'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SSCxIUwYDTI/AAAAAAAAAA8/NKLzVnuxq78/s72-c/P1010053.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2195273549490853654</id><published>2008-11-16T07:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T07:29:31.304-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Product of the Week</title><content type='html'>I am always looking for the best of every product I use.  Whether it be cleaners, clothes, make up, or baby items, so I am going to try to put a product that I love on here each week.&lt;br /&gt;This week is Trader Joes.  I love that store, healthy, tasty food that is not too expensive.  Here are my two hands down favorite products.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.traderjoes.com/index.html"&gt;Trader Joes&lt;/a&gt; natural peanut butter (smooth or chunky)&lt;br /&gt;Trader Joes Caribbean Fruit Floes (the best fruit ice pop I have ever had and only $2 for four)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2195273549490853654?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2195273549490853654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2195273549490853654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2195273549490853654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2195273549490853654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/11/product-of-week.html' title='Product of the Week'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-3842337307363838619</id><published>2008-11-09T13:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T17:32:58.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pro athletes</title><content type='html'>Last night I had the pleasure of having dinner with Sheldon Brown a cornerback with the Philadelphia Eagles.  My boss knows him and I was invited along.  He is a class guy.  Likes to talk football like a fan not an expert player.  On the field this guy seems gritty and determined on every play.  Talking to him over dinner was like talking to a normal guy from the south that just happens to get paid millions of dollars.  It was a nice experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-3842337307363838619?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3842337307363838619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=3842337307363838619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3842337307363838619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/3842337307363838619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/11/pro-athletes.html' title='Pro athletes'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-2548235566637440266</id><published>2008-11-06T11:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T07:39:11.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Miracle!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SRNMs3ag0NI/AAAAAAAAAAw/8bWZlBbgsYw/s1600-h/P5136958a+%282%29+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 179px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SRNMs3ag0NI/AAAAAAAAAAw/8bWZlBbgsYw/s320/P5136958a+%282%29+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265636722999349458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone has a grumpy newborn I highly recommend the &lt;a href="http://www.miracleblanket.com/164.html"&gt;Miracle Blanket&lt;/a&gt;.  As we speak, Leah is sleeping in it in her bouncy seat.  At night she sometimes sleeps for six-eight hours straight!&lt;br /&gt;Leah is finally starting to get in a routine of naps during the day.  They are not at the same time or anything but at least she is sleeping.  For the past eight weeks she has barely slept during the day (sometimes only 1-2 hours tops!).  She has definitely been more difficult than Morgan and I have been so frustrated to the point of tears at least four days a week.  It is a terrible thing when you get to the point of really resenting your children.  The worst feeling in the world.  Now she is starting to coo and smile and is generally much more content.  Knock on wood.  Now I have to go back to work in three weeks and I am sad that our time spent together was not all that happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-2548235566637440266?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2548235566637440266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=2548235566637440266' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2548235566637440266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/2548235566637440266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-miracle.html' title='It&apos;s a Miracle!'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/SRNMs3ag0NI/AAAAAAAAAAw/8bWZlBbgsYw/s72-c/P5136958a+%282%29+%282%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-778847320094706439.post-7889415860616402003</id><published>2008-11-04T18:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T07:02:27.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Post</title><content type='html'>So, inspired by my friend &lt;a href="http://heidirbauer.blogspot.com"&gt;Heidi's blogs&lt;/a&gt; I thought I would give blogging a shot as a sort of therapy.  I don't have a whole lot of free time with an almost three year old and an 8 week old but this seems like a good forum to post anything I feel like but don't necessarily talk about.&lt;br /&gt;I have always secretly wanted to be a writer.  I read an insane amount of stuff and could give you an accurate, concise review of anything that I come across.  The problem is that I am absolutely crap at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;grammar&lt;/span&gt;, organization, and original ideas.  These items being the cornerstones of good writing.  Oh well, so blogging it is.....&lt;br /&gt;That's all the thoughts I have for tonight.  Hopefully, will have time to post more because opinions are not something that I am short on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/778847320094706439-7889415860616402003?l=emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/feeds/7889415860616402003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=778847320094706439&amp;postID=7889415860616402003' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/7889415860616402003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/778847320094706439/posts/default/7889415860616402003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmelinerenshaw.blogspot.com/2008/11/first-post.html' title='First Post'/><author><name>Emmeline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15699615772740397293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I7wJxJ3YWxk/Sl3jcXIl6EI/AAAAAAAAADU/4_WYn1smPnY/S220/DSC00356_2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
