<?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-2260269350940038291</id><updated>2011-11-27T17:02:08.096-08:00</updated><category term='eating out'/><category term='ice cream'/><category term='mom stories'/><category term='kids'/><title type='text'>Our Mom Squad</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>53</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-5821291744523052044</id><published>2008-08-08T18:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T19:00:33.717-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Homeland Security is going to think we are terrorists.</title><content type='html'>I don't know whether to find it amusing or disturbing that my three-year-old son loves to watch videos on YouTube of things going crash.  Demolition derbies.  Monster truck rallies.  And his favorite - train crashes.  Every day, my son asks me to pull up videos of train crashes on YouTube.  And after I remind him to say "please," I oblige.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I type in the search terms and turn the computer over to my son.  Even at three, he has mastered the art of pointing and clicking.  He has several train crash videos he likes to watch, but one of his favorites is an experimental train crash with a nuclear flask.  For whatever reason, he loves this video, and plays it over and over and over.  I really hope that these video viewings haven't raised a red flag with the Department of Homeland Security.  They probably think we're watching the train crash into a nuclear flask so we can figure out how to get one to detonate.  Or maybe they think we're domestic terrorists who want to derail trains.  Terrorists who also have an affinity for Bob The Builder and Thomas the Tank Engine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for fun - here is my son's favorite YouTube video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/as3VQeYfd2c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/as3VQeYfd2c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-5821291744523052044?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/5821291744523052044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=5821291744523052044' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5821291744523052044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5821291744523052044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2008/08/homeland-security-is-going-to-think-we.html' title='Homeland Security is going to think we are terrorists.'/><author><name>Samantha Rodriguez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12947562768089780406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-2372026863695483233</id><published>2008-04-15T11:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T11:58:54.217-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...probably NOT the best nickname for your chubby baby brother...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/SAT6eXBwEGI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ZsXwK6emRTs/s1600-h/5040340380_MD.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189548070122033250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/SAT6eXBwEGI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ZsXwK6emRTs/s200/5040340380_MD.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To my sweet, loving Five Year old,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're a funny little guy. We love your silly ways. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, please stop giving everyone nicknames. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They are not funny. Usually they're nonsensical (is that a word? Oh well, it is now), but today you've cross the line to just plain mean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;BOOBOO is a fine nickname for your baby brother. He falls down a lot and has "boo boos" from his misguided attempts at climbing up the kitchen chairs.  BOOBS is not a good nickname of a nickname for your brother.  Yes, he's chubby. Yes, he DOES have boobies, but BOOBS isn't an appropriate name for your brother.  Neither is Stinky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;your mother :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-2372026863695483233?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/2372026863695483233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=2372026863695483233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2372026863695483233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2372026863695483233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2008/04/probably-not-best-nickname-for-your.html' title='...probably NOT the best nickname for your chubby baby brother...'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/SAT6eXBwEGI/AAAAAAAAAA0/ZsXwK6emRTs/s72-c/5040340380_MD.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-8573278230659301579</id><published>2008-02-14T08:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T09:02:48.378-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I'm going to Yak</title><content type='html'>I found this AMAZING deal on YakPak.com.  Buy 3 bags for $10+$5 shipping and they send you 3 random bags.&lt;br /&gt;"Great!" I thought to myself!&lt;br /&gt;so I placed an order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YakPak sent me 2 backacks and a laptop bag. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*LOVE* the backpacks.  One is little mini dickies backpack- it has poka dots.  I *HEART* poka dots!  The other is a regular sized backpack with skulls and crossbones.  My 7yo son has claimed it as his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what about the laptop bag?  I asked round to various family members and nobody needed one, so I listed it on Craig's List.  No dice.  Nobody else wants the stupid thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard that YakPak is sending out diaper bags now and I *SO* want to try my luck again- I could use a new diaper bag (perhaps to go with my new stroller haha), but what if I end up with another stupid laptop bag I can't use!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-8573278230659301579?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/8573278230659301579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=8573278230659301579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/8573278230659301579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/8573278230659301579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-think-im-going-to-yak.html' title='I think I&apos;m going to Yak'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-4137604899972374488</id><published>2008-02-14T08:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T08:54:48.284-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Duh, Mom!</title><content type='html'>my *new* maclaren stroller sat in my room in the box for over a week before my husband said to me "are you waiting for ME to assemble this thing?"  and pulled it out of the box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what- Maclaren Volos come assembled.  The only thing I had to do was snap on the sunshade *which I hate!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the "DUH, MOM!"  award goes to me this month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jeez, if I'd just opened the box and looked the day I bought it, I could have used it a whole week sooner!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-4137604899972374488?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/4137604899972374488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=4137604899972374488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4137604899972374488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4137604899972374488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2008/02/duh-mom.html' title='Duh, Mom!'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-2302413790217060694</id><published>2008-02-04T16:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T16:54:24.448-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom stories'/><title type='text'>I am no longer MOMMY</title><content type='html'>My son who turned 6 in December has informed me that he is too old to call me mommy so my new name is MOM. The first couple days I didn't respond because I wasn't used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know Mommy and Mom are the same term but it still hurts!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-2302413790217060694?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/2302413790217060694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=2302413790217060694' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2302413790217060694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2302413790217060694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-am-no-longer-mommy.html' title='I am no longer MOMMY'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-5695925758809600669</id><published>2008-01-27T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T08:57:56.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*I found it* (a stroller)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;$50 at target (50% off!)&lt;br /&gt;silver&lt;br /&gt;european (does that make it fancy? lol)&lt;br /&gt;holds up to 55lbs (pushed my 7yo around in it to test it in the store)&lt;br /&gt;nice big basket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its a MacLaren Volo!&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;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/R7Ry_hXY_WI/AAAAAAAAAAs/8Ck_xk6f71w/s1600-h/volo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166881108114603362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/R7Ry_hXY_WI/AAAAAAAAAAs/8Ck_xk6f71w/s200/volo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YAY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its sitting in its box in my room waiting to be assembled. But I have a stroller now! That means I can get out on the town! WOO HOO! Look out world, here I come with my new maclaren volo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOO HOO!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-5695925758809600669?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/5695925758809600669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=5695925758809600669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5695925758809600669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5695925758809600669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-found-it-stroller.html' title='*I found it* (a stroller)'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/R7Ry_hXY_WI/AAAAAAAAAAs/8Ck_xk6f71w/s72-c/volo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-2770071401382129281</id><published>2008-01-14T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T12:20:47.059-08:00</updated><title type='text'>more home made baby food</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/R4vD3IeJEtI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hdR78UJ2hTY/s1600-h/IMG_0006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155429550389793490" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/R4vD3IeJEtI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hdR78UJ2hTY/s200/IMG_0006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/R4vDx4eJEsI/AAAAAAAAAAc/7GNEbH5t3rk/s1600-h/IMG_0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155429460195480258" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/R4vDx4eJEsI/AAAAAAAAAAc/7GNEbH5t3rk/s200/IMG_0002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/R4vDnYeJErI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JwtPsvRafPQ/s1600-h/IMG_0005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155429279806853810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/R4vDnYeJErI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JwtPsvRafPQ/s200/IMG_0005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm *really* getting into making home made baby food. My favorite thing to do currently is to make the baby (12 months, very few teeth) dinner purees with leftovers from the fridge. He LOVES it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing is more fun than throwing a scoop of leftover carrots, potatos and chicken in the blender! And he gobbles it right up!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lets play a little game I like to call "Name that Puree!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lets see if you can guess which puree is which!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;here are your choices:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- steak, potatos, carrots&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- peach, banana, tangerine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- rice, corn, chicken broth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-2770071401382129281?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/2770071401382129281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=2770071401382129281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2770071401382129281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2770071401382129281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2008/01/more-home-made-baby-food.html' title='more home made baby food'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/R4vD3IeJEtI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hdR78UJ2hTY/s72-c/IMG_0006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-4016907022566977933</id><published>2008-01-11T07:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T07:18:43.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>why is it so flippen hard to find the perfect stroller?</title><content type='html'>am I just acceptionally picky??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little lightweight graco stroller is about to bite the dust.  Its falling apart.  Its been good to us, but its time to replace it.  I love it enough that if graco still made it or anything like it, I would go and buy the exact same stroller!  I actually found one on a local craig'slist ad, but it was in pretty poor shape!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stores dont make it easy for you to pick out a new stroller either.  Target puts them up so high up off the ground they fall on you when you pull them down for a better look.  Kmart doesnt even fully assemble them and bolts them to the display so you can't test them out.  Walmart doesnt even assemble them.  The boxes are just thrown under a shelf and you have to dig around to even see what they have and then pray you have all the pieces and hope that you're happy with it once you get it home.  Toys R Us has lots of strollers, all in girly colors (which does me no good!) and when I went in there yesterday I had to assemble the floor models myself (the manager gave an employee permission to do it himself, but I ended up doing most of it!) just to get a good look at them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my problem.  I'm tall.  A lot of strollers I've tried I have to lean over to push.  I feel like I'm pushing a toy stroller.  I like to have a basket under my baby to put stuff in.  Stroller manufacturers arent real good about making usable baskets.  I also have decided I would really like to have a cup holder.  So many strollers now dont have cup holders or only include them in the "upgraded" model.  (Where am I suppossed to put my strawberry frappuchino?? I have to buy the stroller thats $30 more just for the cup holder?  No other difference...just a cup holder.  And the design is lame- its just bolted on.  Seriously it looks like they just glued it on.  I could go to babies r us and buy a $5 add on cup holder and put it on myself!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should go to a real baby store like babies r us to test out strollers....maybe that way I wouldnt have as many problems!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-4016907022566977933?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/4016907022566977933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=4016907022566977933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4016907022566977933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4016907022566977933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2008/01/why-is-it-so-flippen-hard-to-find.html' title='why is it so flippen hard to find the perfect stroller?'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-7805297776413730158</id><published>2007-12-11T18:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T18:50:47.899-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I thought he was too young for a love note!</title><content type='html'>I found this in my 2nd grade son's backpack this morning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dear ______,&lt;br /&gt;You are a realy nice friend to me&lt;br /&gt;you are realy funny and&lt;br /&gt;kind to evryone and you are&lt;br /&gt;realy realy realy smart to&lt;br /&gt;you are never ever ever ever&lt;br /&gt;ever ever ever ever mean to&lt;br /&gt;anybody good by P.S. I&lt;br /&gt;hope you like the letter.&lt;br /&gt;Love, Hannah :)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW CUTE IS THAT?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-7805297776413730158?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/7805297776413730158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=7805297776413730158' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/7805297776413730158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/7805297776413730158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-thought-he-was-too-young-for-love.html' title='I thought he was too young for a love note!'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-8611289975157706752</id><published>2007-12-01T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T09:44:31.255-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Root Beer Floats and Chicken Nuggets</title><content type='html'>I found this in my 7 year old son's backpack last night and I just had to share. (spelling errors and all)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The very best food in the world is Root beer float.  It's brown and bubbly.&lt;br /&gt;It smells sweet.&lt;br /&gt;It tastes cold, mushy and yummy.&lt;br /&gt;You should try it some time.  I'll bet you will like it too"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The very best food is chicken &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nugets&lt;/span&gt; that are dinosaurs.&lt;br /&gt;It looks crispy.&lt;br /&gt;It smells so good in the oven.&lt;br /&gt;You should try it sometime, I'll bet you'll like it too."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-8611289975157706752?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/8611289975157706752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=8611289975157706752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/8611289975157706752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/8611289975157706752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/12/root-beer-floats-and-chicken-nuggets.html' title='Root Beer Floats and Chicken Nuggets'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-1149625774801849268</id><published>2007-10-22T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T13:47:00.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm in trouble now!</title><content type='html'>my 9mo took 10 unassisted steps last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm renaming him trouble.  Either that or smarty pants.  (this kid has climbed my couch too- and can stand on the arm!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and his new favorite word is "no".  Lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good thing he's cute or I'd have to send him back hahahaha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-1149625774801849268?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/1149625774801849268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=1149625774801849268' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/1149625774801849268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/1149625774801849268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-in-trouble-now.html' title='I&apos;m in trouble now!'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-620740097226449334</id><published>2007-10-12T13:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T13:50:21.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the most beautiful sound in the world....</title><content type='html'>"Mom"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;especially when it comes out of your 9 month old son's mouth.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok,&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;em&gt;especially&lt;/em&gt; considering he's been calling me "Bob" for the last month or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finally recognizes me for who I am...his Mom (where are the heart/lovey emoticons when you need them??!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Mom (formerly known as Bob)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-620740097226449334?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/620740097226449334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=620740097226449334' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/620740097226449334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/620740097226449334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/10/most-beautiful-sound-in-world.html' title='the most beautiful sound in the world....'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-1598608341701177031</id><published>2007-09-26T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T09:55:33.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a fan letter from my 4yo...</title><content type='html'>Dear Mike Rowe on Dirty Jobs,&lt;br /&gt;I like to watch your show. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a clean job for you.  You will not get dirty.  I want you to come clean my room.  Mommy says if I earn enough marbles for doing jobs, she will take me out to lunch.  Maybe you could come clean the toilet too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your friend,&lt;br /&gt;_______&lt;br /&gt;Age 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I'm laughing so hard I'm crying)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-1598608341701177031?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/1598608341701177031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=1598608341701177031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/1598608341701177031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/1598608341701177031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/09/fan-letter-from-my-4yo.html' title='a fan letter from my 4yo...'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-9175056356506531571</id><published>2007-09-26T07:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T07:21:50.664-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Get outta my house you stupid rodent!</title><content type='html'>I have a mouse living in my house.  We're not exactly sure where, but we know that we've found droppings in the hall closet and in the drawers I keep my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;linens&lt;/span&gt; in.  It sets off the traps, but we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; caught it yet.  I can hear it late at night in the wall between my dishwasher and my computer.  We've been co-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;habitating&lt;/span&gt; with it for over a month.  I saw it run in the front door over a month ago and we've all seen it run &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;across&lt;/span&gt; the kitchen floor countless times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think slowly its driving me and hubby a little insane.  Why do I say that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby had a "brilliant" idea last night- he decided to "attack" its living space with RAID. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT?!  Ant spray?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.  Ant Spray. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY?!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea.  I think that the mouse has driven him to insanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My vote was sticky traps but what the heck do I know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this much- I WANT THAT STUPID MOUSE OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-9175056356506531571?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/9175056356506531571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=9175056356506531571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/9175056356506531571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/9175056356506531571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/09/get-outta-my-house-you-stupid-rodent.html' title='Get outta my house you stupid rodent!'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-2795542773841975528</id><published>2007-08-25T16:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T16:59:44.374-07:00</updated><title type='text'>out of the mouth of babes...</title><content type='html'>this afternoon I was slaving over a hot stove, trying to quickly and magically turn 90 pears into babyfood...(and I ran out of trays to put them in to freeze the pear puree).  Mid batch I decided to give the kids each a bowl of "sauce".  My 4yo must have enjoyed it, because after his 2nd bowl he said "Mom, this stuff ROCKS!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you hear that pears from Grandpa's magical garden?  Your sauce "rocks"!  haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-2795542773841975528?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/2795542773841975528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=2795542773841975528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2795542773841975528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2795542773841975528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/08/out-of-mouth-of-babes.html' title='out of the mouth of babes...'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-2379764232695631945</id><published>2007-08-20T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T10:58:00.861-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry</title><content type='html'>I figured its been a MONTH since any of us posted on here so I better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The summer is such a busy time for us.  When school starts then I will be able post more!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-2379764232695631945?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/2379764232695631945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=2379764232695631945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2379764232695631945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2379764232695631945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/08/sorry.html' title='Sorry'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-2948523913006788079</id><published>2007-07-21T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T12:36:28.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just so you know-</title><content type='html'>green apples makes VERY tart applesauce.  The only way to make it edible is to serve it with cinnomon/sugar coated pancakes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-2948523913006788079?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/2948523913006788079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=2948523913006788079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2948523913006788079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2948523913006788079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/07/just-so-you-know.html' title='just so you know-'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-7505800124923475707</id><published>2007-07-16T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T11:53:22.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I grow up....</title><content type='html'>I want to be....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you have those assignments in school?  You had to write a paper on what you wanted to be when you grew up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I grow up, I want to be a Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I remember doing this assignment is 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; grade.  My teacher gave me a really hard time because she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; think that being a MOMMY was a real job.  She kept telling me to pick something else.  She told me what wonderful choices my friends had made- they wanted to be things like "Suave Hair Models" and "Telephone Operators".  No, I wanted to be a Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've wanted to grow up and be a Mommy for as long as I can remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now that I am a Mommy, I LOVE it.  Sure, I have days when I want to run and hide, or pack my bags and head for the hills. (Who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt;?!)  But there are other days when I love it, and I look back at being a little kid and saying to myself "hey self- good choice.  Being a mommy is fun".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its hard work.  There's a lot of blood, sweat, and tears that go into being a mom.  But at the end of the day when you look at your sweet little angels, its all worth it.  (and they're so much sweeter when they're sleeping sometimes!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not just fun.  Its rewarding.  Its exciting.  Its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;exhilarating&lt;/span&gt;.  Its intoxicating.  Intoxicating?  Really??  YES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My littlest is at a super fun age.  He's just turned 6 months and he's started to explore his world- more than just looking around.  He's started crawling in circles.  He has to touch everything.  And look very intently at it.  I just cant get enough of him.  I love his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;babiness&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Babiness&lt;/span&gt;?  Fat rolls.  Eyes full of wonderment.  Coos.  Glances filled with love.  Expression- all of them.  His newness gives me a different outlook on things.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; I could do without the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;poopy&lt;/span&gt; diapers, but I love his slobbery "kisses" and the way he says "hi" when he sees me.  I could sit and drink it all in forever.  I hear its called "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;babymooning&lt;/span&gt;", but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;babymooning&lt;/span&gt; what you do when you've just met your newborn?  Can someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;babymoon&lt;/span&gt; this long?  I hope so- I want to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;babymoon&lt;/span&gt; forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching my friend with her 14 month old little girl at the park the other day and I can't wait for my little guy to hit those milestones.  Walking, talking, being way more interactive than he is now...&lt;br /&gt;but when I think about it, it makes me so sad.  I love who he is right now, and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; change it for the world.  But at the same time, I can't wait to see what he'll be like as a big boy.  Until then, I promise to cherish every second of his sweet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;babiness&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for rewarding...&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes my bigger kids do these wonderful things that make me beam.  I feel like I'm glowing from the inside out.  Like my love for them is just radiating out from under my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how I have a different relationship with each of my children.  I'm a silly friend with my oldest.  I'm a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; friend with his twin sister.  I'm a buddy with my 3rd, and my baby and I are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;inseparable&lt;/span&gt; friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sure &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; pay much in actual cash, but I'll take all the hugs, kisses (some of them are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;boogery&lt;/span&gt; and slobbery) as I can get!  And maybe someday if I'm lucky, I'll get to be promoted from Mommy, to Grandma!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-7505800124923475707?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/7505800124923475707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=7505800124923475707' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/7505800124923475707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/7505800124923475707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/07/when-i-grow-up.html' title='When I grow up....'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-9034857602429722166</id><published>2007-07-10T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T13:54:46.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess we were due for an ER visit!</title><content type='html'>Friday was interesting.  Nothing quite like sending your 6yo to his room for a time out, only to have him appear not 3 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;minutes&lt;/span&gt; later crying hysterically that he'd shoved a pellet from an air soft &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bee bee&lt;/span&gt; gun in his ear, that it was stuck and he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; get it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny, I could swear I remember telling those boys I didn't ever want to see another one of those things again after I found them in the garbage disposal.  My 4yo likes to collect them and hide them in things like shoes, pockets, water color paint water...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt; he hid some in the bedroom too, and his brother found one and decided it would be fun to stick it in his ear. (what was he thinking???!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bearly&lt;/span&gt; see the thing and I was starting to panic myself.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; about to stick my own finger in there in fear of jamming it in there further.  My hubby was busy at work and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; leave, my mom was out shopping with my sister who was visiting only for the weekend, so I loaded up all the kids and took them to the ER myself.  My mom said she'd try to meet us there when she was done shopping, I actually hoped we'd be done before that, our last ER visit was over 4 hours long!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully it was completely empty when we got there.  We were seen right away, and were in and out of there under 2 hours. My mom came in and took 2 of the kids home and fed them lunch just moments before my 6yo was examined.  The ER doctor had a little chat with my son about putting things in his ears "nothing smaller than your elbow"- and then popped the thing out with a little wire tool.  He gave it to my son to keep as a reminder.  Lovely- just what I wanted, an ear wax covered air soft pellet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::sigh::  hopefully our next visit won't be for another couple of years.  I should go knock on something besides this particle board computer table!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-9034857602429722166?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/9034857602429722166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=9034857602429722166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/9034857602429722166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/9034857602429722166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-guess-we-were-due-for-er-visit.html' title='I guess we were due for an ER visit!'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-485899094793060985</id><published>2007-07-10T13:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T13:38:50.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandpa's Magical Orchard</title><content type='html'>When I was a little kid I swore my backyard was part forest.  My dad has accumulated quite the collection of fruit trees in his backyard over the years and he'd always hoped that his trees would mature and he'd be able to enjoy (not to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cheezy&lt;/span&gt;) the fruits of his labors for years to come. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad's trees produce lots of wonderful fruit.  Lately we've been enjoying home grown apricots, tangerines, apples and now plums.  I can't wait for peaches and pears!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mmmm&lt;/span&gt;, plums.  My sister and I used to snack in the yard for hours.  My mom said that anything that fell off the trees were fair game and we were welcome to eat them before the birds and critters got to them.  We'd wander from the playhouse out to the tress and have little mini feasts of fresh fruit.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mmm&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an adult I love being sent out to the yard to harvest ripe fruit.  Armed with buckets to fill, my kids love to be little helpers.  They love to sample Grandpas delicious fruits and are delighted when Grandma sends a bag home for us to enjoy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little one started solids this month and he's fallen in love with bananas. He would eat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bananas&lt;/span&gt; until the cows came home if we let him! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt;, bananas &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;aren't&lt;/span&gt; too kind to his digestive system and he needed something to counter balance their effect.  And guess what helps?  You guessed it, plums.  And not just any plums.  Not G&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;erber&lt;/span&gt; pureed plums in a jar or plastic tub. (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;blech&lt;/span&gt;!) Beautiful, sun ripened plums fresh off Grandpa's tree. "Grandpa's Magical Plum" we call them!  And I swear they're 100% magical.  1/3 a plum at dinner time, sliced right off the fruit and cut into little teeny baby sized pieces. He devours them.  They're SO sweet and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;tasty&lt;/span&gt;!  Over night they work their way through his system, and by morning he's his regular &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt; self again.  Not too much though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa has magical apricots too.  Earlier this month I was able to puree them and make "apricot pops" for my other boys to enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that someday MY grandchildren will be able to enjoy Grandpas Magical Orchard, the way that my children and my brother and sister and I have enjoyed it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-485899094793060985?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/485899094793060985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=485899094793060985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/485899094793060985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/485899094793060985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/07/grandpas-magical-orchard.html' title='Grandpa&apos;s Magical Orchard'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-4601932960752108321</id><published>2007-07-01T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T09:39:33.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My son is at Grandma's</title><content type='html'>My son (5 1/2 yrs old) is visiting his Grandma for 3 weeks. Last year he went up there for 2 weeks. He will be going camping, fishing, and enjoying family he doesn't get to see. I wish I was there too. I miss where I grew up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son told me that he needs me to call him every morning and night. I was going to do that anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night when he got to Grandma's he wasn't excited about the toys, movies or the snacks she had got him but the fact he had his OWN ROOM. He explored the house for a few minutes then told Grandma that he wanted to go enjoy some PEACE AND QUIET in his own room. She said he played in there for an hour without coming out. He doesn't do that here. He has to share a room with his 3 yr old sister so I bet that peace and quiet is just what he needed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-4601932960752108321?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/4601932960752108321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=4601932960752108321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4601932960752108321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4601932960752108321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-son-5-12-yrs-old-is-visiting-his.html' title='My son is at Grandma&apos;s'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-6688038948434834122</id><published>2007-06-30T11:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-30T11:26:44.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well!!  It's official!!!</title><content type='html'>Bitty baby is a GIRL!!!!  I'm so excited!!!  It's been so long since I've dressed a baby in bows and lace!!  So, my little tiebreaker is going to fill this house with more girls than boys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, to convince dh that the name he wants isn't good enough, lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-6688038948434834122?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/6688038948434834122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=6688038948434834122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6688038948434834122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6688038948434834122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/06/well-its-official.html' title='Well!!  It&apos;s official!!!'/><author><name>Nadia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04709353572692251994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-6322982608372335904</id><published>2007-06-18T22:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T22:10:10.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I made baby food!</title><content type='html'>You'd think that it wouldnt take me 6 years and 4 kids to figure out that its totally easy to MAKE baby food.  Really all you do is steam it until its soft, puree and freeze it.  You can season it for older babies too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I made 3 trays of baby food.  Apricots (thanks to my parents very fruitful tree), bananas and pears. How much money do you think I just saved myself not buying the jarred stuff at the grocery store??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have to test it on the baby...so far all he's had is 1 helping of rice cereal....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-6322982608372335904?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/6322982608372335904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=6322982608372335904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6322982608372335904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6322982608372335904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-made-baby-food.html' title='I made baby food!'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-4332466636893471968</id><published>2007-06-09T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-09T14:04:28.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys, Boys everywhere!!</title><content type='html'>My poor daughter is surrounded by little boys.  3 brothers at home.  Each and every last one of her cousins are boys.  She's even the only girl in her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt; school class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her grandmas just LOVE having one little girl to cuddle, love and spoil.  I'm sure it helps that my little girl is QUITE the little princess!!  She loves anything pink and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt;....ballet, ponies, princesses, dress up....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning in the car, on the way to our t-ball game, my sweet little girl said to me "Mom, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; it be great if I could have a little sister?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure it would be great, but what is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;likelihood&lt;/span&gt; that she would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;realistically&lt;/span&gt; end up with a little sister and not a FOURTH brother??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her to cross her fingers that someday she gets a cute little girl cousin to be pals with, but until then she'll have to love up her brothers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-4332466636893471968?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/4332466636893471968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=4332466636893471968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4332466636893471968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4332466636893471968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/06/boys-boys-everywhere.html' title='Boys, Boys everywhere!!'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-4670343917636628065</id><published>2007-05-30T11:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T11:58:38.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The first tooth!!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was rather exciting!!  We went about our normal day when my smil decided to stop by and say hello after a job interview near our home.  After talking for a few minutes I hear my 6 yr old say in a scared little voice "I broke my tooth!"  I looked at her, and I could tell she was terrified!!  She touched her mouth and her fingers had blood on them!!  I started to freak out, but stayed calm for her and checked out the damage.  I opened her mouth and looked expecting to see a chipped tooth and a cut lip.  What I saw was MUCH more than that!!  There was a bleeding gap between 2 teeth where there used to be a tooth!!!  I asked my dh to get her a rag or paper towel to stop the bleeding and I started looking around for the tooth when my smil pointed it out.  A tiny white speck on the living room rug.  I picked it up and checked her mouth again.  At this point I was concerned because she hadn't told me about any wiggly teeth!!  Well, the bleeding had stopped and I saw something.  Tiny white bumps sticking out of her gums by where the gap is!!  I was so relieved!!  This was supposed to happen!!  She didn't bump it or damage her teeth, the big tooth simply pushed the little one out of the way!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor girl was still very worried!!  She thought all of her teeth were going to fall out and she wouldn't have anymore!!  Smil, dh and I all tried to tell her that it was normal and it was supposed to happen.  We tried to tell her that our big teeth came in after our little teeth fell out.  Hmm, didn't work.  Later in the day she realized that another tooth was coming in and she started to accept it.  She was even getting excited about the tooth fairy coming!!  The tooth fairy was too busy last night to come, so she's going to come tonight after she makes change to replace the tooth!! lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan on saving her baby teeth for her.  I always wished my mom had saved mine.  I was crushed when I found out that, not only was the tooth fairy not real but my baby teeth, which had actually been taken by my mom in exchange for a quarter each, had been flushed down the toilet.  So, I'm going to put her teeth in either an envelope or a small jar with a list of when each one fell out.  I'm going to keep them with her lock of baby hair and her first outfit and her baby blanket.  I can't believe my little girl is growing up!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-4670343917636628065?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/4670343917636628065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=4670343917636628065' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4670343917636628065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4670343917636628065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/first-tooth.html' title='The first tooth!!'/><author><name>Nadia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04709353572692251994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-4467694436663053969</id><published>2007-05-26T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T17:43:49.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All by myself~woohoo!</title><content type='html'>My hubby and the kids went away for the weekend. I had to work Fri and Sat so darn :) I couldn't go to the in laws. I'm relieved I don't have to see my MIL/SIL (I know mean but...)but I'm more excited about being home ALONE. Alone means quiet, no messes to clean, no "Mommy Mommy Mommy can I have...", and I can actually watch TV or read w/o the 100 interruptions I get a day. What do I do? Clean areas that I can't do when kids are home or RELAX is the big question. My body says RELAX and my mind says "Clean..get some crap done around here". But which one do I really want to listen too. I want to relax but can I knowing that I have dishes in sink from yesterday, 5 loads of laundry, and several closets we can't open because all the junk goes in them. I've worked all day too. I say relax now and clean tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-4467694436663053969?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/4467694436663053969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=4467694436663053969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4467694436663053969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4467694436663053969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/all-by-myselfwoohoo.html' title='All by myself~woohoo!'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-6561283176606322081</id><published>2007-05-26T17:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T17:31:22.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why are my children so different???</title><content type='html'>My son who 5 is a MOMMY'S BOY all the way. The other night I didn't feel very well so I guess this was bothering my son because he came downstairs after being in bed for 45 minutes. Came over and informed me that I should go to sleep and held out his hand. I looked at my hubby who was already passed out on couch and I did feel bad so I off to bed I go. My son led me upstairs into my bedroom folded down the sheets and told me to get in. I crawled in and he put the covers over me and then asked if I wanted a story. I might have gone with a story but it was already getting late and he needed to go to sleep. So he proceeded to tuck me in, fluff my pillows, kissed forehead , and told me that he loves me and hopes I feel better in the morning. I watched this sweet boy of mine turn off my light, walk out, and blow me a kiss then jumped into his bed. My heart was all warm and fuzzy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry about hubby on the couch because he always passes out about 9pm due to early morning work schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my daughter is totally different. She just turned 3 and wow she is a HANDFUL! Thursday's we have breakfast at my son's school. We get there, wash hands, and then go sit down. Well there wasn't an empty chair by my son so my daughter started to cry (loud) and everyone became quiet and looked her way. I went over to her and picked her up and told her that we will get breakfast somewhere else because there was no need to be crying. She of course get louder so the teacher comes over and asks her what is wrong....MOMMY IS A MEANIE!! The teacher holds out her arms and my lil girl goes to her then turns around and sticks her tongue out at me. WTH??? She gets to sit by the teacher but is still giving me evil look. What did I do? Oh that's right I wasn't going to deal with her temper tantrum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-6561283176606322081?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/6561283176606322081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=6561283176606322081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6561283176606322081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6561283176606322081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-differnt-my-2-young-kids-are.html' title='Why are my children so different???'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-5153861422401611734</id><published>2007-05-22T21:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T22:04:48.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stranger Repellant...</title><content type='html'>Irritated with random strangers sneaking up on you to poke at your baby?&lt;br /&gt;Tired of snotty nosed little kids reaching their grubby little hands into your stroller?&lt;br /&gt;Sick of little old ladies leaning in to caress your soft little baby's cheeks and head?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;END IT ALL NOW!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How, you ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you're clamoring to know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're anything like me, you've tried it all.  Wearing the baby in a sling, close to your body.  Covering the stroller or infant carrier with &lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt; blanket, secretly wishing it was a force field!  Staring down overly friendly little old ladies and nicely asking children not to touch your baby.  Running the opposite direction.  And like me, I'm sure you've failed miserably too.  Much to my dismay, none of them work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, I'll let you in on my new found little secret.  But only this once!  I like to keep the good ones to myself, you know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To keep these unwanted baby gropers at bay, as these irritating ninny's approach, simply exclaim "oh I wouldn't get too close, he's VERY SICK...you wouldn't want those nasty germs!".  Then watch them back away, frequently with a horrified look on their face.  Heaven forbid your precious, angelic little one- peacefully resting of course- unknowingly gives someone a nasty virus!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voila, problem solved.  Who cares if its true or not...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I will take full credit for thinking these scheme up myself.  I personally tested this theory twice today (stumbled upon it quite by accident and by simply telling the truth) and I can say for sure it works on 75% of general bothersome company.  The other 25% seems to be self centered 2 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; that want ONLY to see the pretty baby- germs or not.  Bummer to be the parent of those little monsters....with fresh cold germs and all....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-5153861422401611734?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/5153861422401611734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=5153861422401611734' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5153861422401611734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5153861422401611734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/stranger-repellant.html' title='Stranger Repellant...'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-5243635628209438239</id><published>2007-05-16T13:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T13:47:40.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramen Chef, I am not.</title><content type='html'>I am embarrassed to say it, but I dont cook Ramen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids won't eat it. I'm not a big fan of it myself either. Dh will make it for himself occasionally. But quite frankly, I really am not even sure I know how to make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure I've made it a few times, but its never quite tasted right. Not that I *really* know what Ramen is suppossed to taste like anyway, but its just flavored noodles, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead and laugh. Just dont ask me to make you a bowl of Ramen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-5243635628209438239?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/5243635628209438239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=5243635628209438239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5243635628209438239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5243635628209438239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/ramen-chef-i-am-not.html' title='Ramen Chef, I am not.'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-4091750408028416976</id><published>2007-05-16T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T13:51:40.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>our little friend, Snail.</title><content type='html'>My 4 year old has a new little friend, Snail Friend.  Snail Friend lives in the ivy that grows next to the walkway by our house.  4 loves to stop and "chat" with Snail Friend.  The conversation usually goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4:  Snail Friend...where are you?&lt;br /&gt;(spots a little snail squishing accross the sidewalk)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4:  Oh, dere you are!  How are you today my widdle Snail Friend? &lt;br /&gt;(stoops down as if to listen to the snail)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4:  I'm fine, thank you bery musch.  But I'm on my way to ___(pick up brother and sister at school, buy groceries, play at the park etct)___.  I'll see you later Snail Friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 is such a magical age.  I wish he could stay this cute forever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-4091750408028416976?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/4091750408028416976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=4091750408028416976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4091750408028416976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4091750408028416976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/our-little-friend-snail.html' title='our little friend, Snail.'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-6354231002135433708</id><published>2007-05-16T13:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T14:07:15.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a pocket full of treasures</title><content type='html'>My boys love to treasure hunt. My 4 year old finds all sorts of treasures at pres-school and stuffs them in his pockets. He's brought home "lucky coins", beautiful rocks, shells, marbles, and tons of other things. Unfortunatly, I usually find them in the bottom of my washing machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of my big boys like to stick things in their pockets and forget about them. Its not intentional, they're just so busy and distracted by other things, the last thing on their mind when they change into their pj's at night, is emptying their pockets. (My husband does this too, I've just learned to empty his pockets out before I wash his pants- even if they've been sitting in the hamper a week or longer. I've made close to $50 this way! hee hee. I also find things like screws, nails, batteries, fuses etc before the washing machine did.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days, the boys will bring their treasures to share with me, and carefully put them back in their pockets. I love the way their little faces light up when they tell me how they came about their treasures.  Its not usually more than a "Wook, I found a ____ in the ____".  But then there are days when I'm lucky and I get a 10 miniute whimsical tale of how they came upon this peticular piece. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When does the magic end?  When are treasures in your pocket no longer "cool"?  Its not age 6, I dont think.  I've had to "frisk" 6 before school to make sure he wasnt sneaking any contraband into school.  Generally thats only after a "umm...I snuck Lightning McQueen to church in the pocket of my slacks today" episode.  Silly elementary school and their "no toys" rule.  His pockets are generally full of legos, k'nex, erasers and occasionally coins and maybe a micro sized car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that someday, when my boys are grown and have little boys of their own, I'll miss my treasure hunting boys and my washing machine full of memories :)  Sure beats the sand they leave on the couch, bathroom floor and beds!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-6354231002135433708?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/6354231002135433708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=6354231002135433708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6354231002135433708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6354231002135433708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/pocket-full-of-treasures.html' title='a pocket full of treasures'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-6630011281236670120</id><published>2007-05-13T17:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T17:49:39.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Baby Boy's Bee Sting</title><content type='html'>He is 5 but still my baby, lol!  I was upstairs getting ready for my peace and quiet that my husband promised me when I hear this horrendous scream and crying that could be heard 5 blocks down. But it was my son he got stung by a bee for the very time. We ran toward the screaming. My husband pulled out the stinger then looked at me like WTF do I do NOW.  "ICE" was all I could say.  I froze. All I could do was hug him. In a weird way this is also a milestone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of milestone his first tooth fell out this week too!  Bad mommy for not writing about that!  Thursday 5/10 Daddy pulled out son's first tooth.  It was so tiny! The tooth fairy left $5.00 (I didn't have change and was in a hurry to get to work by 6:30am).  I did make sure to let him know that was a ONE TIME price for his very first tooth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-6630011281236670120?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/6630011281236670120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=6630011281236670120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6630011281236670120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6630011281236670120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-baby-boys-bee-sting.html' title='My Baby Boy&apos;s Bee Sting'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-5335794410333343055</id><published>2007-05-13T17:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T17:16:51.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>I hope all the mommies are having a GREAT DAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.glitter-graphics.com title='Myspace Graphics'&gt;&lt;img src=http://dl6.glitter-graphics.net/pub/334/334606a1dcifel7l.gif width=274 height=376 alt='myspace layouts, myspace codes, glitter graphics' border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.glitter-graphics.com title='Myspace Graphics'&gt;&lt;img src=http://dl9.glitter-graphics.net/pub/336/336409hnuctwg5h2.jpg width=458 height=358 alt='myspace layouts, myspace codes, glitter graphics' 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/2260269350940038291-5335794410333343055?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/5335794410333343055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=5335794410333343055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5335794410333343055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5335794410333343055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-6960552983177085747</id><published>2007-05-07T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T23:07:36.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pickles are EVIL</title><content type='html'>Hmmm, you may have noticed a theme with a majority of my posts.  If you haven't, the theme is pregnancy.  I don't know why!!  I mean, I have 4 kids demanding my attention at ALL times!!  But this little critter in my belly demands SOOO much more attention than the 4 that share 2 rooms combined!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, to the reason pickles are evil.  I love pickles.  I CRAVE pickles!!  Yeah, yeah.  Stereotypical pregnancy craving.  I'm just missing the ice cream, whatever.  Anyway.  I can sit there and down a whole jar of the wonderfully salty things!!!  BUT, 5 minutes after I eat even 1 my stomach starts to churn!!!  I feel like the dumb pickle is going to make an encore appearance!!!  No thank you (I'm polite, huh, lol!!)!!!  See, my body is conflicted.  You usually crave something because you need it, right??  Well, that's what I've heard.  So, obviously, something is saying "Give me the pickles!!!"  well, then it gets to my stomach and my stomach goes "Where the heck did these come from????" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so what do I do??  Eat the pickles and enjoy them as I taste them and regret it later, or crave them for the remainder of my pregnancy and curse the name of the person who first pickled cucumbers!?!?!?  Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to tie my first and second paragraphs together.  My pregnant belly (Huge even at 13 weeks!!) demands my attention by going "Try it!!  You'll like it!!" then making me ill when I sucumb to the pressure of the craving!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait until I have 5 children and not 4 with one on the way!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, it's late, I'm rambling and you all are probably going "Ummm, ok you crazy knocked up chick!!!"  G'Night!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-6960552983177085747?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/6960552983177085747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=6960552983177085747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6960552983177085747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6960552983177085747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/pickles-are-evil.html' title='Pickles are EVIL'/><author><name>Nadia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04709353572692251994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-3692230250007274371</id><published>2007-05-07T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T21:38:52.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>did I miss spring?</title><content type='html'>Did summer come early this year?  Did I miss the memo that we're skipping spring this year?  Is 95 degree weather in May some kind of joke? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I take a raincheck on summer and get a free year of spring please?  No?  Then can I at least have a pair of shorts that look good on me pretty please??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-3692230250007274371?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/3692230250007274371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=3692230250007274371' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/3692230250007274371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/3692230250007274371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/did-i-miss-spring.html' title='did I miss spring?'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-2398639010680053306</id><published>2007-05-03T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T10:21:37.076-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ice cream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eating out'/><title type='text'>I didn't get any Ice Cream last night..ugh!</title><content type='html'>Baskin &amp; Robbins was having 31 cent cones last night so that's a DEAL we could afford! We were going to dinner first then ice cream. We told the kids they needed to be good in the diner in order to get ice cream cones. That didn't work! They fought over the food, even though they had the same dinner. Then they were fighting over who gets to sit by MOMMY because DADDY is a MEANIE. So now I'm in the middle of the kids in a very small booth. At this point my headache has arrived plus I'm no longer hungry since I have two rugrats digging into MY food. My 3yr old is yelling and screaming at her brother like she is at home. I kept telling her to lower her voice because now we have people looking at us. I asked the waiter to bring us to-go containers so we can get the heck out of there before mommy blows. We get to the car and the kids do know that mommy is not happy but they still ask "are we going ice cream now?" "NO!" that's all I could say at the moment. I did explain when we got home why we didn't go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wanted that ICE CREAM CONE! We should have just went and got ourselves one but I'm not that cruel. I really wanted my husband to say "sweetie I'll go get you that ice cream cone when the kids go to bed" but that didn't happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-2398639010680053306?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/2398639010680053306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=2398639010680053306' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2398639010680053306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2398639010680053306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-didnt-get-any-ice-cream-last-nightugh.html' title='I didn&apos;t get any Ice Cream last night..ugh!'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-6272192121413371053</id><published>2007-05-01T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T14:24:49.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay!!</title><content type='html'>I just thought I'd share the WONDERFUL news that my morning sickness, it seems, is going away!!!  I was able to do a load of dishes and tidy the kitchen today and I DIDN'T feel like I was going to puke!!  Yay for me!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second trimester, here I come!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-6272192121413371053?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/6272192121413371053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=6272192121413371053' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6272192121413371053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6272192121413371053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/yay.html' title='Yay!!'/><author><name>Nadia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04709353572692251994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-3879753510732100650</id><published>2007-05-01T14:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T14:22:56.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worshipping my fan!!</title><content type='html'>Ahhhhh!!!  Whoever thought that a simple fan placed in a window could bring so much joy???  Well, any pregnant woman suffering in the 80 degree heat would understand, lol.  Winter was dry.  Spring, non-existant.  Summer is here (or so it feels!) already!!  On this first day of May, at only 3 in the afternoon the temps have reached a scorching 79 degrees!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is, before I had kids I would bask in 100+ temps all day!!  I loved the heat!!  I can fare easily any summer day that reaches or exceeds 100 degrees, but not with this baby!!  79 degrees is too hot.  Let alone the 82 it reached the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if only we had clean play clothes, I would take my kids out to play in the backyard!!  And, of course, I would have my fan in hand!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-3879753510732100650?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/3879753510732100650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=3879753510732100650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/3879753510732100650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/3879753510732100650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/worshipping-my-fan.html' title='Worshipping my fan!!'/><author><name>Nadia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04709353572692251994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-1676178028922595024</id><published>2007-05-01T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T10:17:33.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoever told me GIRLS are easier LIED!!!!</title><content type='html'>I'm telling ya if I had my daughter first she would be an ONLY child. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; girl is a cutie pie and all she has to do is smile at you for your heart to melt but she is BAD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's only 10 am and she has been in time out 4 times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids were playing with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;playdoh&lt;/span&gt; and she got mad because her BALL wouldn't bounce...well sweetie its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;PLAYDOH&lt;/span&gt;.  Do you think she wanted to hear that?  No, that's not a good enough reason for her.  She was determined to get this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;playdoh&lt;/span&gt; ball to bounce and when it wouldn't she picked it up and threw it at her brother.  Of course it hit him and she turns around to me and said "See its ball, I can throw it".  Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week she just turned 3 and I have been really talking up the potty training to her.  We have books, video and I've been using her dolly for an example but this girl wants no part of potty training.  She told me "I'm staying in my diapers FOREVER so I can stay home with you" darn she figured it out!  When she is potty trained she will be able to go to the school with her brother.  In my eyes that's a GOOD thing but in her eyes she has to give up her MOMMY.  So new approach will be happening soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;remember&lt;/span&gt; who told me girls are easier so I can send this one their way for a day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-1676178028922595024?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/1676178028922595024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=1676178028922595024' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/1676178028922595024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/1676178028922595024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/whoever-told-me-girls-are-easier-lied.html' title='Whoever told me GIRLS are easier LIED!!!!'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-6488869405360038848</id><published>2007-05-01T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T10:06:00.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Does anyone else get up 1-2hrs before the kids?</title><content type='html'>For my sanity I have to do this. I would love to just lay in bed and get up when the kids do but then my day is thrown off. I have to have at least 2 cups of coffee in peace or I'm just not a happy camper. I like to watch the news or read my book so the early morning is the only time I can do that w/o the 20 questions from the kids. Its so quiet and I enjoy every minute. Then 7 am approaches and its all over. Kids running from room to room "MOM" this "MOM" that and the day BEGINS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-6488869405360038848?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/6488869405360038848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=6488869405360038848' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6488869405360038848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6488869405360038848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/05/does-anyone-else-get-up-1-2hrs-before.html' title='Does anyone else get up 1-2hrs before the kids?'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-9032725536771580050</id><published>2007-04-30T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T10:08:06.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>only a mom of boys would understand....</title><content type='html'>This afternoon I took my unruly brood to the park to run off some excess energy. It was all fun and games until my 4 year old took off running after birds. He said he was "just wooking at dem" and when he re-appeared over the grassy knoll he was yelling "I have somefing for you Mommy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not an abnormal occurance.  He's forever bringing me flowers.  Saturday night he came inside with something behind his back and he said "I have somefing for you Ma!" and presented me with a handful of dandilions.  Awww!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEVER did I expect him to bring, in his sweet little hands a very scary looking, very dead baby bird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I thought he was gently holding a LIVE baby bird (which you're not suppossed to do because Mommy will reject it) and then I saw its little eye hanging out of its socket and realized it was dead. I jumped up and screamed and ran away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must have scared my poor little man because he dropped it and ran after me. Then he stopped and said "did I scawe you Mommy?" My heart was pounding so loud I could bearly hear myself when I kneeled down to his level and said "dont you EVER pick up another dead anything EVER. And DO NOT bring it to Mommy! YES you scared Mommy, that is very very yucky!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He scrunched up his cute little face and said to me "Dead birds awe nucky? K, no more dead birds. We just wook at nice ones running in da gwass. K?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ammount of hand sanitizer seemed to make me feel better, so we rushed right home and I put him in the shower. Ew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That poor dead little bird. My poor 4yo, I've probably scared him for life. And poor me, I'm probably going to have nightmares about dead baby birds. (and the other 3 kids are now mad at me that I dont want to go back to the park today....can you blame me?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-9032725536771580050?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/9032725536771580050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=9032725536771580050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/9032725536771580050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/9032725536771580050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/04/only-mom-of-boys-would-understand.html' title='only a mom of boys would understand....'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-7190806193583392428</id><published>2007-04-23T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T23:21:07.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning sickness..... The green faced monster</title><content type='html'>Remember when you were a kid and just KNEW there was a monster under your bed???  What about the one in your closet??  I'm about to tell you about one the will send you running to the comfort of the arms of the mentioned beasts.  Morning sickness!!!!  This beast lives in the confines of your own stomach and occasionally seeks refuge in the toilet.  When it wants out, it demands it!!!  And you MUST abide by its demands or you will pay, and so will everyone around you.  This monster makes itself comfortable for, oh, 6 weeks or so.  Sometimes longer if your stomach is cozy.  Once the protruding belly starts to invade the space that once contained your stomach the monster decides it's time to leave.  Either that or it gets angry and throws a fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is quite often the cause of the "pregnancy glow"  The sweaty red faced misery that shows up in your cheeks will tell others "I had sex.... err.... I'm with child!!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-7190806193583392428?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/7190806193583392428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=7190806193583392428' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/7190806193583392428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/7190806193583392428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/04/morning-sickness-green-faced-monster.html' title='Morning sickness..... The green faced monster'/><author><name>Nadia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04709353572692251994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-2042432094593340842</id><published>2007-04-23T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T21:41:30.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>where did I go wrong??</title><content type='html'>My sister and I had a funny chat yesterday afternoon.  I'd like to say it was over tea, and we were dressed in our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt; best, but alas, I was still in bed, wearing my pj's, covered in baby snot and spit up and she was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, walking through Pet Smart looking at fish, several hundred miles away from me.  We were both on our cell phones, laughing and chatting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were talking about how as children, we'd &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;envisioned&lt;/span&gt; our lives to be when we "grew up", and how different things were, at least for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister's adult life has just begun.  She's in college, trying to pick out a grad school.  She's engaged to a wonderful guy.  She's exactly where she thought she'd be, when she wanted to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life on the other hand....&lt;br /&gt;I had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;envisioned&lt;/span&gt; being a mommy of 3 little girls.  Perfect ones.  With exceptionally polite manners, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;impeccably&lt;/span&gt; dressed in matching outfits without a hair out of place.   I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;envisioned&lt;/span&gt; us running through fields of flowers together, jumping rope, giggling and begging to have their hair &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;braided&lt;/span&gt;; the 4 of us the best of friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; turn out quite like I had thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Instead&lt;/span&gt;, I ended up with 3 little boys, the next more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;precocious&lt;/span&gt; than the last.  Little booger covered trolls that spit and punch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt;, wrestle and growl.  Never sit still and leave me little messes wherever they go.  My washing machine is full of their "treasures" and they leave little golden puddles next to the toilet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt; however.  Even though these little "monsters" are not quite what I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;bargained&lt;/span&gt; for, I enjoy every second of them.  Its fun to play in the mud and climb trees.  And lucky me, I got one little girl among that brood of wild little boys.  And she burps and farts with the best of them :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if my sister ends up with my flock of polite little girls, I'm moving to her house!  (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;hee&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;hee&lt;/span&gt;!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-2042432094593340842?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/2042432094593340842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=2042432094593340842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2042432094593340842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2042432094593340842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/04/where-did-i-go-wrong.html' title='where did I go wrong??'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-6941261569647873492</id><published>2007-04-23T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T10:40:31.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ahh...parenthood</title><content type='html'>When holding baby on your lap, and baby's pants begin to rumble, brace yourself. If your lap suddenly feels warmer than usual, and a strange odor wafts up from baby's pants, prepare yourself to change said baby.  Make sure YOU have a change of clothes for yourself if said baby is unusally happy after filling his pants. Chances are he's just unloaded the contents of HIS pants all over your lap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking from personal experience of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-6941261569647873492?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/6941261569647873492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=6941261569647873492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6941261569647873492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/6941261569647873492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/04/ahhparenthood.html' title='ahh...parenthood'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-4889790642743103046</id><published>2007-04-23T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T21:04:52.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring is in the air!</title><content type='html'>and we all know what that means...right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its time for SPRING CLEANING!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My house is under full attack.  No corner will be left unturned.  No dustbunny will survive.  Not only will I be dusting, vacuuming, organizing and scrubbing, but I'll be "purging" too.  Yes, that means every inch of this house will be sorted through and put away where it belongs or (dun dun dun)heaven forbid, TOSSED!  If its lucky, it'll be added to the "to be donated" pile (which is slowly turning into a mountain next to the front door!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WATCH OUT, cause Mommy is on a mission and there is no stopping her! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Operation **SPRING CLEAN** launched its attack saturday. &lt;br /&gt;Closets ambushed were first.   Then drawers.  Outgrown clothes and shoes have been exported elsewhere.  Shoes have been exiled to live eternally outdoors, in a bucket on the porch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I hit the kitchen.  I have to say, I have never seen it look quite so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you see Mommy coming with a trash bag and a broom, move out of the way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Mommy has just discovered she doesnt need to clean the bathroom anymore.  Our Four year old resident has decided to do it for her.  With the brand new bottle of baby shampoo.  Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone seen my mop?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-4889790642743103046?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/4889790642743103046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=4889790642743103046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4889790642743103046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/4889790642743103046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/04/spring-is-in-air.html' title='Spring is in the air!'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-2147625388379824924</id><published>2007-04-17T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T07:17:19.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where are my GIRLS at?????</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-2147625388379824924?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/2147625388379824924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=2147625388379824924' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2147625388379824924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2147625388379824924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/04/where-are-my-girls-at.html' title='Where are my GIRLS at?????'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-9048874269191284689</id><published>2007-04-01T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T06:26:16.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ladies~Hi</title><content type='html'>I'm just waving at you!  It's APRIL...woohoo!  So what's in store for this month?  We have Easter coming up and I know I need to get ready for that.   My baby girl will be "3" this month and we are doing the PARTY thing this year for her.  She wants a Sponge Bob B'day party..ugh!  What about a Princess or Dora? NO was the answer I got.   Talk later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-9048874269191284689?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/9048874269191284689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=9048874269191284689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/9048874269191284689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/9048874269191284689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/04/ladieshi.html' title='Ladies~Hi'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-7499339696882376953</id><published>2007-03-20T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T12:06:28.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yoda almost got away from me....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/RgAuxXw4N9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Sy8JyuiijuQ/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044083008382449618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/RgAuxXw4N9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Sy8JyuiijuQ/s200/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday is usually the day I run all of my errands. Today was no different. After an hour+ in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart with my mom, my kids were pooped and I still had 3 other places to go. We went into a children's furniture store and I stupidly decided to have the kids come in with me- but in my defense I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t know that the room we'd be in was literally wall to wall beds and tables and chairs with almost no space to walk, or else I'd have asked them to stay with my mom elsewhere while I looked at bunk beds...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let each of my 3 children bring in 1 small toy to keep them quiet and busy while I looked around (another stupid mistake!). Upon entering the store, I was lead back to the room we'll call *The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Un&lt;/span&gt;-Holy Pit of Mass Chaos* and the kids started climbing all over EVERYTHING...up and down bunk bed ladders, over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ottomans&lt;/span&gt;, into rocking chairs, over mattresses...there was stuff piled EVERYWHERE and I'm sure to a 5 or 3yo it looked like climbing heaven!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm exceptionally picky about everything, but I'm a gal that knows what she wants.  I came armed with a long list of "the bed I'm looking for must have:" and a list of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; even show me:". I climbed around the room looking at different bunk beds and decided nothing in the store fit what I was looking for.  Mr Salesman &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; let it go.  Meanwhile, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Monkeys&lt;/span&gt; 1, 2 and 3 were climbing up and over and through everything, screaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point I lost my cool and asked my mom to take everyone to the car, I'd try to finish quickly and then we could move on to the next adventure, thinking maybe she'd feed them a snack but she was too consumed with trying to buckle 3 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;octopi&lt;/span&gt;  (is that plural for octopus?)  into their car seats and I was too busy trying to HURRY UP and have the guy quit trying to sell me one of 2 triple bunks he had in stock.  I don’t want a triple bunk bed, did he miss my rant about being really picky?! Or my list of SPECIFIC wants and must not haves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After hauling my three monkeys out to the car, my mom pops her head back into the store and tells the sales guy calmly "would you mind telling my daughter that Yoda is missing?" I start climbing through *The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Un&lt;/span&gt;-Holy Pit of Mass Chaos* over the heaps of chairs and tables and beds to find where my son might have left Yoda and the sales guys (both in their early 20s- so not much younger than me) ask me "why are you so calm, your KID is missing" and I just laugh. One guy says to me "why the heck did you name your KID, YODA?" (And the scary thing was he was TOTALLY serious!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found Yoda, and he was returned to a very relieved monkey #3, but not after the sales guy yelled at the door to me as I was leaving, "May The Force be with you" followed by a room full of chuckles.  Yeah, may the force be with you too...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-7499339696882376953?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/7499339696882376953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=7499339696882376953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/7499339696882376953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/7499339696882376953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/03/yoda-almost-got-away-from-me.html' title='Yoda almost got away from me....'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_k-Bdyj_BjfY/RgAuxXw4N9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Sy8JyuiijuQ/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-2692732953754688181</id><published>2007-03-20T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T11:23:49.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A MOM VENT!</title><content type='html'>RAIN was not part of my plan today.  We have been having some awesome weather here so I organized a PARENT WALK for my son's school for Tuesday's and today was going to be the first one.  Just my luck it's pouring down rain and of course no one wanted to walk.  My sweet daughter who will be 3 soon didn't understand the rain factor so ALL the way home (25 minutes) I had to hear crying, whimpering then the anger came.  Of course I'm the bad mommy.  So many emotions in such a tiny lil girl.   We have been home for about a hour and she is still upset at me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I walked in the house I noticed that the maid didn't come today.  Oh wait, I'm the maid.  I need to do some chore charts in my house SOON.  Even the wonderful hubby will be getting one.  My mom is coming this week and its amazing how things are getting done around here when I've only been asking for MONTHS!  Thanks Mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-2692732953754688181?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/2692732953754688181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=2692732953754688181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2692732953754688181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/2692732953754688181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/03/mom-vent.html' title='A MOM VENT!'/><author><name>PinkMama</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9I41enK-Zfo/SY93lSvKnqI/AAAAAAAAANk/VLU7bUECzJw/S220/thekids.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-7306191374283052933</id><published>2007-03-19T18:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T18:43:42.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The most important toddler law: everything must be on the floor</title><content type='html'>It seems that according to toddlers, a place other than the floor for any object you can think of is completely unacceptable!  I have yet to figure out how to keep things out of the reach of my 2-year-old other than installing shelves 6 feet high all around every room in the house.  Otherwise, he'll find some way to get it!  If it's on my desk, he grabs it and throws it on the floor.  If it's on the dining room table, he grabs it and throws it on the floor.  It can be pushed back against the wall as far as humanly possible and he WILL get it!  And when you try to take something away from him, he will grab something else you don't want him to have within a nanosecond.  I don't dare burn a candle until after he's gone to bed.  He has defeated every latch on every cabinet and every safety plug on every outlet.  I'll go to use the restroom, come out, and find the Ziploc bags from the junk drawer in a trail from the kitchen to his room.  I get so aggravated that the number of flat surfaces in my home keeps diminishing as he gets taller.  Sometimes I swear he's not actually MY kid and that I was just a surrogate for the love-child of the goddess Kali and Inspector Gadget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.astrologycom.com/images/grandpa/kali.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  x &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img src="http://disney.go.com/educational/2002/images/store/catalog/P-68M01VL00.jpg" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;= TODDLER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-7306191374283052933?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/7306191374283052933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=7306191374283052933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/7306191374283052933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/7306191374283052933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/03/most-important-toddler-law-everything.html' title='The most important toddler law: everything must be on the floor'/><author><name>Samantha Rodriguez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12947562768089780406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-3997024675232783678</id><published>2007-03-19T17:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T17:29:53.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm here too!</title><content type='html'>and I have no idea what I'm doing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-3997024675232783678?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/3997024675232783678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=3997024675232783678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/3997024675232783678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/3997024675232783678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/03/im-here-too.html' title='I&apos;m here too!'/><author><name>Penelope</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08084865096538651538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-662007495086733243</id><published>2007-03-18T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T21:50:18.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here I am!!</title><content type='html'>Nadia here!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-662007495086733243?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/662007495086733243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=662007495086733243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/662007495086733243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/662007495086733243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/03/here-i-am.html' title='Here I am!!'/><author><name>Nadia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04709353572692251994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2260269350940038291.post-5460976104973431182</id><published>2007-03-18T18:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T18:26:47.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Steph, I'm in!</title><content type='html'>It's Samantha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2260269350940038291-5460976104973431182?l=ourmomsquad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/feeds/5460976104973431182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2260269350940038291&amp;postID=5460976104973431182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5460976104973431182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2260269350940038291/posts/default/5460976104973431182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ourmomsquad.blogspot.com/2007/03/steph-im-in.html' title='Steph, I&apos;m in!'/><author><name>Samantha Rodriguez</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12947562768089780406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
