<?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-3402469</id><updated>2012-01-27T16:52:27.528-05:00</updated><category term='motherhood'/><category term='sleep'/><category term='me'/><category term='knitting'/><category term='grumpy'/><category term='gymboree'/><category term='panic'/><category term='beach fun'/><category term='fleas'/><category term='husband'/><category term='house'/><category term='video'/><category term='prematurity'/><category term='project 365'/><category term='potty training'/><category term='celebrations'/><category term='fun'/><category term='sick'/><category term='girlie talk'/><category term='procrastination'/><category term='photos'/><category term='work'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>betseeee knits!</title><subtitle type='html'>(Well, not so much knitting these days, but she raises her twins, tries to clean up, works occasionally, takes photos, blogs, and thinks about knitting again.)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>498</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-8781730695944341371</id><published>2010-08-09T12:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T12:48:45.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8/8/10 On the lam</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4876190570/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4077/4876190570_1055ae453f.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4876190570/"&gt;8/8/10 On the lam&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Went on a wine-tasting tour of the North Fork of LI. The group was a bunch of girls who are friends with my best friend. I knew them in varying degrees. We had a stretch Escalade, which was pretty funny for a bunch of suburban mamas. This guy worked at Pelligrini Vineyards, where we had a great time. I have no idea how these crazy girls convinced him to get in the car, but it was some good hiliarity for sure.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-8781730695944341371?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/8781730695944341371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=8781730695944341371' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8781730695944341371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8781730695944341371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/8810-on-lam.html' title='8/8/10 On the lam'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4077/4876190570_1055ae453f_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-896915321177019839</id><published>2010-08-07T22:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T22:27:05.217-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8/7/10 Time marches on (219 of 365)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4870584046/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4073/4870584046_751299026f.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4870584046/"&gt;8/7/10 Time marches on (219 of 365)&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another beautiful day ends at one of my favorite beaches. What's most interesting to me about this shot, though, is comparing it to July 4th's sunset. Just one month later and look how the position of the sun has changed. Over the water in early summer, over land (Asharoken) in midsummer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still plenty of summer left, though.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-896915321177019839?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/896915321177019839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=896915321177019839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/896915321177019839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/896915321177019839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/8710-time-marches-on-219-of-365.html' title='8/7/10 Time marches on (219 of 365)'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4073/4870584046_751299026f_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-8108734973582698119</id><published>2010-08-06T21:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:45:25.154-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8/6/10 Blown schmown</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4867039289/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4082/4867039289_9b1c5b6a1b.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4867039289/"&gt;8/6/10 Blown schmown&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yeah, there's that giant thermonuclear blown area on Lilly's dress and a slightly smaller one on her face. A small price to pay for the look of utter devotion. &lt;3&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-8108734973582698119?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/8108734973582698119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=8108734973582698119' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8108734973582698119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8108734973582698119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/8610-blown-schmown.html' title='8/6/10 Blown schmown'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4082/4867039289_9b1c5b6a1b_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-6674311820206312728</id><published>2010-08-06T21:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:45:07.125-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8/5/10 Lilly cooperates</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4864835328/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4141/4864835328_504f6b1f9f.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4864835328/"&gt;8/5/10 Lilly cooperates&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Seriously, write down the date! Though really, she's more likely to do so than her sister. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been playing around with back-button focusing and shooting wide open. Her posing is a little cheesy--maybe she's going to work at Kiddie Kandids someday. But in the end, she's my beautiful girl and I like the shot because of that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-6674311820206312728?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/6674311820206312728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=6674311820206312728' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6674311820206312728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6674311820206312728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/8510-lilly-cooperates.html' title='8/5/10 Lilly cooperates'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4141/4864835328_504f6b1f9f_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-2288788961532027427</id><published>2010-08-06T21:44:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:44:50.443-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8/41/0 Bacon, it's what's for dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4862137356/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4075/4862137356_c8054115b6.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4862137356/"&gt;8/41/0 Bacon, it's what's for dinner&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Who can argue with a BLT, even if you have to put it on a hot dog roll?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-2288788961532027427?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/2288788961532027427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=2288788961532027427' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2288788961532027427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2288788961532027427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/8410-bacon-it-what-for-dinner.html' title='8/41/0 Bacon, it&amp;#39;s what&amp;#39;s for dinner'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4075/4862137356_c8054115b6_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-735937681394040621</id><published>2010-08-06T21:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:44:32.305-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8/3/10 Ice poppin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4858540377/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4079/4858540377_5265694fd8.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4858540377/"&gt;8/3/10 Ice poppin'&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I still had peach puree (no rum added!) left after making the daiquiris the other night, so I used it to lure them off the beach today. After baths and dinner (which you will note they didn't bother to dress for) we put it in the Zoku. I was pronounced "best mom ever" by Miss Lilly here. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-735937681394040621?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/735937681394040621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=735937681394040621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/735937681394040621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/735937681394040621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/8310-ice-poppin.html' title='8/3/10 Ice poppin&amp;#39;'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4079/4858540377_5265694fd8_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-1761012647168600053</id><published>2010-08-06T21:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:44:09.649-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8/2/10 Swinging into the night</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4855298277/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4138/4855298277_3a3d40a1e2.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4855298277/"&gt;8/2/10 Swinging into the night&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;We spent most of the day at our friends' house, swimming. Then the kids watched a movie, and by the time it was over, it was almost 7pm. Got a text from my husband that he would be home by 8:30, so I decided to throw caution to the winds, and suggest to my friend that we go up to Crab Meadow (5 minutes from her house) and watch the sunset. Clouds on the horizon made that kind of a bust, so I decided to play with silhouettes. That was actually pretty tough, too, because of the low clouds. This was the best I could do, achieved by lying on my back, propped up by the backpack I was wearing, between Kate's (pictured) swing and Lilly's. I deserve hazard pay for this one, except I don't get paid for this. ;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-1761012647168600053?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/1761012647168600053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=1761012647168600053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1761012647168600053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1761012647168600053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/8210-swinging-into-night.html' title='8/2/10 Swinging into the night'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4138/4855298277_3a3d40a1e2_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-8804920347501260240</id><published>2010-08-06T21:43:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:43:44.161-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/31/10 Sophie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4855914674/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4141/4855914674_c92f474429.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4855914674/"&gt;7/31/10 Sophie&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was so close to her that only one eye ended up perfectly sharp at 2.8. But she's no less gorgeous for it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-8804920347501260240?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/8804920347501260240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=8804920347501260240' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8804920347501260240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8804920347501260240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/73110-sophie.html' title='7/31/10 Sophie'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4141/4855914674_c92f474429_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-8008834943876918766</id><published>2010-08-06T21:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:43:23.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8/1/10 Good use of CSA fruit</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4855915624/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4123/4855915624_eaa7ffe23a.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4855915624/"&gt;8/1/10 Good use of CSA fruit&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;We had a lot of wonderful organic peaches that were perfectly ripe and probably overripe by morning. I told Ryan I was going to puree them so we could make ice pops. He said he had been hoping I would say daiquiris. You don't have to ask me twice--threw some ice in, grabbed the last bit of rum we had in the house, and there ya go. Delicious!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-8008834943876918766?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/8008834943876918766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=8008834943876918766' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8008834943876918766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8008834943876918766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/8110-good-use-of-csa-fruit.html' title='8/1/10 Good use of CSA fruit'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4123/4855915624_eaa7ffe23a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-421192589794830512</id><published>2010-08-06T21:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:43:03.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/30/10 Not-so-dirty dancing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4855283485/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4119/4855283485_e31f50d0bb.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4855283485/"&gt;7/30/10 Not-so-dirty dancing&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I looked at this photo and all I could think of was the scene where Johnny Castle tells Baby "This is my dance space. This is yours. You don't go into mine. I don't go into yours." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That philosophy is completely alien to twins, by the way.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-421192589794830512?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/421192589794830512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=421192589794830512' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/421192589794830512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/421192589794830512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/73010-not-so-dirty-dancing.html' title='7/30/10 Not-so-dirty dancing'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4119/4855283485_e31f50d0bb_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-6551229448032404463</id><published>2010-08-06T21:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:42:23.239-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/29/10 Princess My Ride</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4842818918/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4149/4842818918_aa1e44bea7.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4842818918/"&gt;7/29/10 Princess My Ride&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I swear my kids have never watched MTV and never seen a stretch SUV with a swimming pool. Apparently, it's a universal desire to be able to swim while driving. Belle, Aurora, and the twin Ariels sure seem happy about it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-6551229448032404463?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/6551229448032404463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=6551229448032404463' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6551229448032404463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6551229448032404463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/72910-princess-my-ride.html' title='7/29/10 Princess My Ride'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4149/4842818918_aa1e44bea7_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-10246836432768979</id><published>2010-08-06T21:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:41:59.586-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/28/10 Monkey bar redux (209 of 365)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4839137289/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4146/4839137289_cc7a80b4de.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4839137289/"&gt;7/28/10 Monkey bar redux (209 of 365)&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is Kate tackling the same set of monkey bars as Lilly did on May 20th. Different twin, different vantage point. I like the less-cluttered background. I was also pretty happy with myself for managing to (I think) nail the exposure in full sun with the sun at her back. At the very least, nothing was blown out. Golf claps, please!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-10246836432768979?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/10246836432768979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=10246836432768979' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/10246836432768979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/10246836432768979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/72810-monkey-bar-redux-209-of-365.html' title='7/28/10 Monkey bar redux (209 of 365)'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4146/4839137289_cc7a80b4de_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-3370807919670901238</id><published>2010-08-06T21:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T21:41:26.385-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/27/10 BFFs (208 of 365)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4836335770/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4149/4836335770_f79e15a53e.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4836335770/"&gt;7/27/10 BFFs (208 of 365)&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;We went for an impromptu nature walk at the Sweetbriar Nature Center today. On the way back, I lagged behind just to watch them. This was not posed. &lt;3&lt;3&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-3370807919670901238?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/3370807919670901238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=3370807919670901238' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3370807919670901238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3370807919670901238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/08/72710-bffs-208-of-365.html' title='7/27/10 BFFs (208 of 365)'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4149/4836335770_f79e15a53e_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-2375920201903921011</id><published>2010-07-26T20:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T20:29:21.958-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/26/10 Asharoken gull</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4832455056/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4107/4832455056_0de4cae91b.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4832455056/"&gt;7/26/10 Asharoken gull&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;As far as I can tell, there are two good ways to get a nice shot of a flying seagull. One involves a long lens, image stabilization, and luck. The other involves a couple of four-year-olds and a bag of tortilla chips. Guess which I used?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-2375920201903921011?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/2375920201903921011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=2375920201903921011' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2375920201903921011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2375920201903921011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/07/72610-asharoken-gull.html' title='7/26/10 Asharoken gull'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4107/4832455056_0de4cae91b_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-2393782599366992800</id><published>2010-07-25T22:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T22:24:27.021-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/25/10 Straw wars</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4828481745/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4142/4828481745_3f84873c2a.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4828481745/"&gt;7/25/10 Straw wars&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I'm filling out my Mother of the Year (MOTY) award application, please remind me to include "Taught children how to blow the wrapper off the straw and into other peoples' faces" under my achievements.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-2393782599366992800?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/2393782599366992800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=2393782599366992800' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2393782599366992800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2393782599366992800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/07/72510-straw-wars.html' title='7/25/10 Straw wars'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4142/4828481745_3f84873c2a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-7771134181432545045</id><published>2010-07-24T21:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T21:24:43.921-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/24/10 Bowler over</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4824942131/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4079/4824942131_d992919d4c.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4824942131/"&gt;7/24/10 Bowler over&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;You'd think with that much windup, Lilly would have gotten some decent momentum on the ball. But we still had to wait a good minute-and-a-half before it managed to get down to the pins.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-7771134181432545045?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/7771134181432545045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=7771134181432545045' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/7771134181432545045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/7771134181432545045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/07/72410-bowler-over.html' title='7/24/10 Bowler over'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4079/4824942131_d992919d4c_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5328733597296052684</id><published>2010-07-24T09:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T09:18:33.201-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/23/10 Lilly of the backyard</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4823210067/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4140/4823210067_0e4ed355d6.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4823210067/"&gt;7/23/10 Lilly of the backyard&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just rented the 85mm 1.8. I think I'm in love with it. So much sharper than my other lenses.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5328733597296052684?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5328733597296052684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5328733597296052684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5328733597296052684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5328733597296052684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/07/72310-lilly-of-backyard.html' title='7/23/10 Lilly of the backyard'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4140/4823210067_0e4ed355d6_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5884201369869346994</id><published>2010-07-22T21:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T21:06:40.944-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/22/10 Sunflowers (203 of 365)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4819276791/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4136/4819276791_86b34a093a.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4819276791/"&gt;7/22/10 Sunflowers (203 of 365)&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;There's a small farm and farmstand not too far from my house. Every summer they have a beautiful field of sunflowers, and every summer I think to myself that I'd like to photograph it. Today, the girls were at my parents, so I decided to just do it. I walked into the farmstand, asked one of the women who works there (who I think is part of the family that owns the farm) if I could take some photos of their beautiful sunflowers. I don't know what cynical part of me was expecting her to say no, but I'm glad it was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a ton of bees out there, and I started getting a little freaked out after a few shots. I wanted one with more sky, but the direction of the sun was wrong. That whole thing about sunflowers turning to face the sun? Not true for all sunflowers. These were squarely pointed east while the sun was working its way west. So, the only decent angle included the utility poles and also required a pretty good amount of work in ACR to look right.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5884201369869346994?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5884201369869346994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5884201369869346994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5884201369869346994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5884201369869346994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/07/72210-sunflowers-203-of-365.html' title='7/22/10 Sunflowers (203 of 365)'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4136/4819276791_86b34a093a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-3451517831629771619</id><published>2010-07-22T16:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T16:39:11.776-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='project 365'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'>7/21/10 Worth the trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4817222130/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4076/4817222130_fccf7d3e56.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" margin-top: 0px;font-size:0.8em;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/4817222130/"&gt;7/21/10 Worth the trip&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theunnaturalmother.com/"&gt;Deanna&lt;/a&gt; has convinced me to start blogging my 365 photo project. I debated starting a new blog, but the more I thought about it, I rather like this one as a document of betseeeevolution. I started this photo project on January 1st, and have gotten a lot of satisfaction out of it. Since I usually write a pretty good story on flickr, I'm just going to cut-and-paste the same here. Hope you enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls and I spent the day swimming at the home of some really wonderful friends. When we left, Lilly really wanted pizza, and asked so nicely and with such longing that I agreed. As we walked out of the pizza place, a girl next to us looked up at the sky and went "Whoa!" It looked like Armageddon up there! We hurried back to the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, like a good mama, I asked my girls if they wanted to take a ride with me up to the beach to see if we could take some pretty pictures (with them safely inside the car) of the storm clouds. Like good photo-mama daughters, they agreed, and off we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The serious rain and thunder never actually materialized where we were, but the sky was glorious. And when we got back to our house, 8 or so miles south, the puddles were a good hint as to where the rain had actually gone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-3451517831629771619?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/3451517831629771619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=3451517831629771619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3451517831629771619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3451517831629771619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2010/07/72110-worth-trip_22.html' title='7/21/10 Worth the trip'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4076/4817222130_fccf7d3e56_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-3066717201275578836</id><published>2009-06-25T09:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T09:06:02.704-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='potty training'/><title type='text'>Potty Party</title><content type='html'>We've been dancing around the potty subject for weeks. Maybe months. A couple of weeks ago I tried putting them in panties, and had mixed results. Mostly, they would hold it for a really really long time, and then if I didn't say anything in time, they'd pee or poop in their panties. It wasn't very fun. My sofa, livingroom rug, and dining room floor were victimized. Even as late as this past Monday, they were fine for hours and then had accidents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, something clicked. They both spent the entire day at home, accident-free. And I didn't have to remind anyone to use the potty (a strategy that I found highly ineffective, by the way). Throughout the day, I heard "I have to use the potty!" and they'd run on in. Sometimes they asked for help, but mostly they just went on up there and did what they had to do, and I just helped clean up and turned the faucet on for them to wash up. They acted like they'd been doing it for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I'd be so excited about this whole thing. I thought I'd feel a little sad, even, that they are growing up so much. But I'm just happy! There are plenty of times I lament that I don't have little babies anymore, but this sure is not one of them. Their little tushies are so cute in their panties, too. When I pick them up, I feel squishy tushie instead of crinkly diaper. Nice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-3066717201275578836?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/3066717201275578836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=3066717201275578836' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3066717201275578836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3066717201275578836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2009/06/potty-party.html' title='Potty Party'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-1694058115648448686</id><published>2009-04-29T23:48:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T00:00:33.058-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlie talk'/><title type='text'>The mouths of babes</title><content type='html'>My latest fear about the girls is that they are going to say something which will be taken terribly out of context and lead to a CPS call. OK, I'm kidding, mostly. But you do hear crazy stories about misunderstandings leading to interventions, and really, they say some pretty bizarre stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago, I was pretending to eat Katie's cheeks, which I have done for years already. She loves it (and so do I - she has the smooshiest cheeks ever). "Eat my cheeks" turned into "eat my belly," and "eat my toes," and ended up in the inevitable "eat my bagina!" To which I had to reply "baginas are not for eating." That's the not-yet-published title in &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Hands-Hitting-Ages-Best-Behavior/dp/1575420775"&gt;this series&lt;/a&gt;, of course. (And yes, yes, all you with dirty minds, I know...shush.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, they were running around naked after a shower (a recent habit - the shower rather than the bath) and Katie jumped up on my bed with me to snuggle. Of course I kissed her smooshy cheeks, and out of a clear blue sky she said "Kiss my bagina!" I replied something like "No, people don't usually kiss other people's baginas." She persisted, "But I want you to kiss it!" and once again, I had to refer to the literature and tell her "baginas are not for kissing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on, Lilly got into the act. She's commented on the past about Daddy's "wiggly tushie," which she sees when he gets out of the shower or she barges in on him in the bathroom. It only took a day for him to realize his wiggly tushie isn't a tushie at all. So tonight, he comes home from work, and excuses himself to go pee. Lilly says to him, "Your penis is always wiggling all over the place!" Um, OK. We just sort of ignored that one and hope it doesn't come up in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even remember what prompted the last of these special comments, but a little later in the evening, Katie told Ryan he had a "big, giant tushie." Now, I'm pretty sure his big giant tushie is not the wiggly one. Because she said she had a little tushie and I had a medium one, and none of those wiggle either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shall we take bets on how long I have until one of these gems slips out in public? We'll be at Gymboree in the morning...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-1694058115648448686?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/1694058115648448686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=1694058115648448686' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1694058115648448686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1694058115648448686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2009/04/mouths-of-babes.html' title='The mouths of babes'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-1498926924754825369</id><published>2009-04-12T11:35:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T11:42:48.292-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>This, too, shall pass</title><content type='html'>Sometimes the thought comforts me. Mostly in the middle of a tantrum, or when I have to lie in their bed for 45 minutes (starving because I decided not to eat dinner with them and wait for Ryan because I thought they'd go to bed easily and early) to get them to go to sleep. Or when they freak out about brushing their teeth, or I have a night where they wake me up 4 times between midnight and 7am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the rest of the time, it makes me ache. Because along with all those trials, some of my favorite things will pass. The feeling of a plump, bouncy little cheek smooshed up against mine. Getting 15 kisses, on the mouth, when I ask for one. Waking up in the morning (even after the 4 times) and having two little bodies wiggling around and snuggling with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It drives me crazy when I am trying to unload the dishwasher, or cook a meal, or just get a little computer time, and they won't leave me alone. A hundred requests for this and that. All I want is a break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But someday that break is going to come, and when it does, that will be it. There's no other baby waiting in the wings for me to snuggle--they're a one-shot-deal.  And in a few years, they're going to be young women, with their own lives, their own interests, and no smooshy cheeks for me. How am I supposed to reconcile with that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-1498926924754825369?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/1498926924754825369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=1498926924754825369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1498926924754825369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1498926924754825369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-too-shall-pass.html' title='This, too, shall pass'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-8183217401937972883</id><published>2009-03-27T13:12:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T13:27:06.324-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prematurity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'>EDD</title><content type='html'>Three years ago today was technically my EDD (Estimated Due Date). In some ways, it's silly to even consider it as a date at all--who gives birth on their due date, especially with twins? But it's yet another milestone and one I can never forget. My girls were 11 weeks old on their EDD. Instead of newborn pictures on that day, I have this sweet scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/Sc0J54WEmSI/AAAAAAAAERA/hdBY6YODgCY/s1600-h/IMG_0008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/Sc0J54WEmSI/AAAAAAAAERA/hdBY6YODgCY/s320/IMG_0008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317917624976578850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's obviously Katie on the left with the nasal cannula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to have a lot of pregnant friends right now. Not so many in "real" life, but a lot of good friends I know online, many of whom I have met in person, too. One announced her pregnancy today, via Facebook status, and I am thrilled for her. She has had an incredibly hard road following the birth of her first child, and there was a big question whether she'd even be able to have another. Her news put a huge smile on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then it got me crying. Such is life. I think I've written here before that I don't really want to have any more children. My family is absolutely complete with my two incredible daughters. I feel like we are completely in balance and have no real desire to throw that off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I still feel a little sad thinking about never being pregnant again. And somehow seeing so many people have second children brings that out more than those having their first. I really really loved being pregnant. I was sick for most of the first 15 weeks, and exhausted, but I really relished all those strange feelings. Part of that was probably because once we found out it was twins, I knew it was a one-shot deal. So I enjoyed my growing belly, the OB appointments, the ultrasounds, the planning--all of it. It was entirely novel and special and then it was cut short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're only going to be pregnant once, you should at least manage a full 9 months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-8183217401937972883?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/8183217401937972883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=8183217401937972883' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8183217401937972883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8183217401937972883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2009/03/edd.html' title='EDD'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/Sc0J54WEmSI/AAAAAAAAERA/hdBY6YODgCY/s72-c/IMG_0008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-6768277763722902545</id><published>2009-03-25T15:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T15:25:33.554-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation and recovery</title><content type='html'>You have to love it when someone says she's going to post more often, then takes another month-long hiatus.  It probably wasn't so bright to say that 3 days before leaving for a 10-day Florida/Disney vacation extravaganza. We had a great time, though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learned a few things about our kids. Lilly's petrified of fireworks and pretty much any dark ride, especially if it includes loud noises. That kid is really sensitive to noise. Even Mickey's "Philharmagic" 3D movie scared the crap out of her, as did "Winnie The Pooh's adventures," and pretty much every other indoor ride. Let's not even talk about "Pirates of the Caribbean." She did love "It's a Small World" enough that we rode it twice and if you ask, that's her favorite thing at Disney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also learned that both of them love shrimp. That took some of the sting out of paying something like 13 bucks apiece at a buffet meal. They probably almost ate enough shrimp each to break even.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the conventional Disney wisdom says that the kids will be more intimidated by the animal characters, because they don't have a human face to look at, but we found the opposite. They were totally at ease with Tigger and Pooh, but got tongue-tied around their Princess idols. Well, not so tongue-tied that Lilly didn't ask Princess Ariel if she poops in the water. Yes, she did. She had asked about that a few days prior, so I said she could ask Ariel when she meets her. And then I reminded her about it that day, not thinking she'd have the temerity to do so. Apparently, I misjudged my daughter. Ariel was entirely flustered and I let her off the hook by suggesting that they have special mermaid toilets for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prior to Disney we spent several days in Fort Lauderdale and Miami visiting with Ryan's father and his sister's family. It was a blast to see the girls playing with their cousin Conner again, and they all had such a great time together. We're talking about getting together somewhere down South the first week in August, maybe renting a house on the beach somewhere within a reasonable drive of Atlanta, where my mother-in-law lives. We'll see what we manage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took 600 pictures in Florida. It's really hard to just pick a representative few. But here they are, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate in white, Lilly in pink (not to be confused with Piglet in pink)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3345237407/" title="2009_march06_disney 254 by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3305/3345237407_a793163408.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="2009_march06_disney 254" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate on Daddy's lap, Lilly on mine, on the Jungle Cruise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3346071638/" title="2009_march06_disney 232 by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3636/3346071638_e945a8702c.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="2009_march06_disney 232" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate's dressed as Sleeping Beauty (in pink), Lilly as Cinderella (blue). Belle's dressed as Belle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3345236209/" title="florida_march_2009 109 by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3637/3345236209_4e2d52996b.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="florida_march_2009 109" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Cinderella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3346070254/" title="florida_march_2009 102 by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3376/3346070254_34d462f0e5.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="florida_march_2009 102" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly on the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3345233767/" title="florida_march_2009 048 by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3655/3345233767_3275ffa4e8.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="florida_march_2009 048" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate on the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3345233545/" title="florida_march_2009 037 by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3645/3345233545_a87a6817f3.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="florida_march_2009 037" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-6768277763722902545?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/6768277763722902545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=6768277763722902545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6768277763722902545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6768277763722902545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2009/03/vacation-and-recovery.html' title='Vacation and recovery'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3305/3345237407_a793163408_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5893812024002758839</id><published>2009-02-24T22:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T23:10:12.398-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlie talk'/><title type='text'>Random things I'm loving right now</title><content type='html'>I hope you're not expecting an explanation (excuse?) for my absence the past couple of months. There isn't one. I was just busy and distracted and feeling a little lazy about writing, I suppose. That's all.  I thought I'd come back today and jot down a few things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent the past several years on a few different message boards, all of which grew out of the wedding forums on theknot.com. I've gotten a lot out of those boards. Some aggravation for sure, but so much more in terms of friendship and knowledge. I've met a pretty good number of the women on my boards, in places as far apart as NYC, Kansas City, Ann Arbor, and Raleigh. Probably other places, if I really sit and think about it. We talked each other through getting married, getting pregnant, having babies, raising kids, and in some cases, ending those marriages. There are things I've told the ladies on the boards that I would never ever blog about, and probably wouldn't tell a lot of my real-life friends. When my babies were born so early, a large group (25 or so) of them get together and sent me a huge box, which contained the only "baby shower" I'll ever have. In return, I shared with them the horrifyingly embarrassing photos of my one-week postpartum miserably exhausted self opening the gifts. I think I got the better end of that deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the boards lived on MSN Groups, and this past October MSN announced that they were shutting down the boards. There were various archiving schemes, and some of the boards did get archived on other sites. And we migrated to other hosting sites going forward, so it's not like we're not all still able to communicate. But not everything got archived. I went through all my posts on one of the baby-related boards and copied every post I started for the past 3.5 years - since I found out I was pregnant. I have a word doc hundreds of pages long. But I couldn't copy every reply I made in every post, and I know countless little bits of information have been lost. There were milestones and stories about the girls that I probably only posted there, and now I will never read them again. It makes me sad if I think about it too hard, and I am trying not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm trying to keep up this blog going forward. I wish so much I had blogged during my pregnancy and first years with the girls. I wish I had done a handwritten journal, written in the form of letters to my babies. I bought one - the day I found out it was twins, I bought a beautiful journal at Barnes &amp;amp; Noble. But not too long after that, I had a scare and thought I might lose one or both babies, and I couldn't bear to start writing to babies that may or may not ever exist. And then they were OK but I started thinking how can I write one journal for 2 people - who will get to keep it when I die? Will they argue over it? (Yes, really, pregnant women &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;are &lt;/span&gt;crazy.) And then it was so late into my pregnancy that it seemed silly to start writing now - if you can't start at the beginning, why bother? I can think of a million reasons now. Not everything has to be perfect to be worthwhile. So, from here on in, I'll try and record more of this life here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To that end, here are just a few of my favorite things right now about Lilly and Kate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Says "Yes ma'am" and I have no idea where she picked that up.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you ask her if she wants something, she replies with a jaunty "Sure!" just like her mama&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Loves to ue the word "certainly" as in "I certainly like Cinderella."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Told me tonight that she liked the bourbon chicken I made for dinner because "It's nice and saucy."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tells me "I like to sleep without you mom (she calls me "Mom" lately). And with you. But I like to sleep without you" and then proceeds to climb into my bed every. single. night. sometime in the wee hours.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Turned to me while eating eggs I had cooked in heart-shaped bread "frames" on Valentine's Day and said "Thank you for making this for me, Mom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Kate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Has trouble saying "Fl" or "Fr" and "Thr" at the beginning of words, so she plays with her "shrineds," likes pretty "slowers," and loves to "sly" her fairies "shrough" the air. She's also very excited to go to "Slorida" on vacation at the end of this week. I love to try and get her to say any of these words, because she sounds so stinking cute when she says them. I'll be sad when she starts saying them correctly. Last summer she said "corn" with 2 syllables, so it sounded like "Cah-rin" and I miss it every time I hear her say "corn" now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Loves to tell me what her sister likes. If Lilly is eating something, it's "Mommy, Lilly loves macaroni and cheese!" Or "Lilly likes her Cinderella doll." It's hard to describe, but when she says it, she's so thrilled to make this report that it gives me the giggles.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Comes into our bed every night, usually a few hours prior to Lilly. I'm always frustrated at the interruption (she often times it 2 minutes before the end of a TV show we're watching on Tivo) but then when she lays down and I snuggle in close and put my cheek against her cheek...I melt.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thinks (and well tell you) that anything on TV that isn't one of their familiar Noggin or Disney Channel shows is "inaccrocriate." Apparently she told Grandma this about a commercial the other day and made her turn it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Both of them have become so lovey with each other. They fight plenty, of course, but they will spontaneously run up to each other and hug and kiss or tell each other "I love you" several times a day. It makes my heart want to burst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are exhausting. They don't stop talking from wakeup to bedtime, some days. They don't sleep through the night. They rarely nap more than one hour, and many days not at all lately. They take 30 minutes to get from the livingroom and down the steps into their carseats because they have to examine 20 things and ask me 20 questions on the way. They never seem to eat when I think they are hungry, and then when I think they're not, they ask for snacks all day long. They bite each other. They hit each other. They scream at me. They ignore at least 75 percent of what I say to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of that really matters when I sit down and have a moment to think about the wonders that live inside them. When it's quiet, and they're not climbing on me, I can ponder what an incredible gift these little girls are, and how lucky I am to be their mother. They take everything I ever imagined about having a daughter and magnify it x 1000.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5893812024002758839?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5893812024002758839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5893812024002758839' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5893812024002758839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5893812024002758839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2009/02/random-things-im-loving-right-now.html' title='Random things I&apos;m loving right now'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-105980816366015363</id><published>2008-12-01T09:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T09:28:06.045-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlie talk'/><title type='text'>Love in the morning</title><content type='html'>The girls were playing in their room, and I was here in my room putting some stuff away. Lilly comes in asking for a headband. Kate follows her in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K - "Oh, I found out where you was leaving to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L - "But I still love you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(hugs and smiles)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K - "We was having a group hug. That's why we was getting married!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then they run off. They crack me up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-105980816366015363?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/105980816366015363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=105980816366015363' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/105980816366015363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/105980816366015363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/12/love-in-morning.html' title='Love in the morning'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-6611449233081057867</id><published>2008-11-29T00:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T00:15:50.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A successful feast</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3066751329/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3006/3066751329_7da61dfd8f_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3066751329/"&gt;November_27_thanksgiving 003&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well, &lt;a href="http://atransplantedlife.blogspot.com/"&gt;Molly&lt;/a&gt; was right. The turkey wasn't hard at all! And it came out fantastic, even with my bizarre method. I was making this awesome &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Roast-Pumpkin-with-Cheese-Fondue-350655"&gt;roasted pumpkin with cheese "fondue"&lt;/a&gt; from Gourmet magazine, and that needed to be in the oven at the same time as the turkey. My Mom gave me her roaster oven to do the turkey, but I wanted to do Alton Brown's cooking method, which involved starting the turkey at 500 degrees for 30 minutes, then turning it down to 350 for the rest of the time. The roaster oven only goes up to 450.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I improvised. I stuck the turkey in the roasting pan from the roaster oven, and put that in the regular oven at 500. Preheated the roaster oven without the pan, and after 30 minutes just pulled the turkey out of the oven (well, I made Ryan do this, actually) and popped it into the roaster oven. Worked out beautifully. The turkey was delicious, as were all the sides. The pumpkin, as you can see, was gorgeous and decadent and yummy.&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-6611449233081057867?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/6611449233081057867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=6611449233081057867' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6611449233081057867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6611449233081057867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/11/successful-feast.html' title='A successful feast'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3006/3066751329_7da61dfd8f_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-3396785508268564972</id><published>2008-11-27T00:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T00:34:15.611-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebrations'/><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving!</title><content type='html'>I've been in the kitchen all week. My father-in-law and his wife will be in town, so we're hosting them and my parents here at Casa O'Girlie. I've got a whole world of food prepared, but I'm anxious about this stupid turkey. Oy, the turkey! Wish me luck. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-3396785508268564972?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/3396785508268564972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=3396785508268564972' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3396785508268564972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3396785508268564972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving!'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-4790705007996645015</id><published>2008-11-12T14:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T14:40:58.872-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prematurity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'>I wanna be a supermodel</title><content type='html'>Today's kind of a junky day. Kate's got a cold and is cranky as all get out. I'm trying to clean up the house and re-cover my dining room chairs because my mother-in-law is coming this weekend. And I'm trying to assemble a meatloaf that Ryan and I have been craving since seeing the recipe on Americas Test Kitchen this weekend. It's hard to do all the above with one or the other child doing their best impersonation of a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Limpets"&gt;limpet&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, instead of adding to the whine, I'll share some pics from this past weekend's big event (which is probably where Katie picked up her current cold). The girls were models in our local March of Dimes chapter's Prematurity Awareness Fashion Show. They had so much fun! It was also a pretty moving event, and I think if they hadn't been so freaking hilarious and excited about it all, I would've had a lot of teary moments. But they were so crazy and giddy and happy that my focus was almost entirely on the present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly's in the pink dress, Katie's in the plaid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3017022552/" title="MoD Fashion Show by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3287/3017022552_271890204a.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="MoD Fashion Show" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3017022648/" title="MoD Fashion Show by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3290/3017022648_8432c58934.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="MoD Fashion Show" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When their turn on the runway was up (while they were out there, an emcee from the local news station read their preemie bio - written by Mom - and they showed a few NICU pictures on the screen next to the runway) Katie didn't want to leave. The emcee asked her if she wanted to stay up there, and she just said "OK!" and hung out for another minute before we could get her away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3017023418/" title="MoD Fashion Show - Kate by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3222/3017023418_08a5994fd0.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="MoD Fashion Show - Kate" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After it was all over, they ran around and played with the other kids (all former preemies) on the dance floor. It was so fun to see them become instant friends with these little kids like that. In the past they haven't done that so much. Lilly showed off some of her favorite dance moves -- she is really into dancing these days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/3016192715/" title="MoD Fashion Show - Lilly by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3155/3016192715_4168285427.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="MoD Fashion Show - Lilly" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now she just climbed into my lap, so I think this post is over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-4790705007996645015?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/4790705007996645015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=4790705007996645015' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/4790705007996645015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/4790705007996645015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-wanna-be-supermodel.html' title='I wanna be a supermodel'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3287/3017022552_271890204a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5553585357908464469</id><published>2008-11-08T21:10:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T21:20:20.633-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prematurity'/><title type='text'>I'm glad I finally figured that out</title><content type='html'>It's not a well-kept secret that I enjoy shopping. I'm a girl, I'm Jewish, I was raised on Long Island - it's sort of my birthright, no? I enjoy the whole process, the looking at stuff, the trying to find something I love that looks good at a good price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past couple of years, though, I haven't enjoyed it so much. I do like finding clothes for the girls, but when it comes to shopping for me, not so much. I've especially found I get tense and uncomfortable at the mall or at the outlet center - places I would always love to go in the past. I'll leave the girls with my parents or the babysitter, expecting to have this wonderful day of selfishness, and it doesn't materialize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm fine for 20-30 minutes, but then I start feeling strange. Like I'm alone, naked, and vulnerable. Like I'm supposed to be somewhere else. Like it's wrong for me to be there when my girls aren't with me. I guess it's sort of like an anxiety attack. I end up not having much fun, only buying clothes for them, and hurrying out of there with this terrible feeling of guilt and doom that I can't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It finally dawned on me a few days ago. I feel like I did when they were in the NICU. When everything was wrong, because my babies were in the hospital. I didn't go out much, but I did go to the mall once or twice and to the outlet center once (to buy clothes for them, of course). Maybe that was enough. But it's something of a relief to realize that this confusing reaction is probably related to PTSD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's also something of a disappointment, because I have been in therapy for this and really thought I was doing a lot better than that. I know I am in some ways, you don't have to point that out - I just really didn't realize I could have such a visceral reaction (I have had times when I've had to leave, heart pounding and about to cry, and I can't understand why) to an activity not directly related to the NICU. I would understand if this happened at the ped's office, or the lab, or even the drugstore. But the outlet mall? That was pretty much a dark horse in the PTSD-inducing race, don't you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5553585357908464469?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5553585357908464469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5553585357908464469' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5553585357908464469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5553585357908464469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-glad-i-finally-figured-that-out.html' title='I&apos;m glad I finally figured that out'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-4787251651768398689</id><published>2008-11-05T07:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T07:38:36.435-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebrations'/><title type='text'>Pleased and proud</title><content type='html'>And it has nothing to do with my kids for a change! I'm just so glad and impressed that enough people in this country were able to see past the color of a man's skin and elect him to the white house. Right up until the end I wasn't sure if it really could happen, and it makes me cry with joy and relief that it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only blotch on the experience is that I seem to have at least one sick kid, probably two before the day is out. Lilly developed a fever last night and still has it this morning, and both had a restless night. I have a feeling Kate's temp will be up any minute. No other symptoms, just a fever. We were supposed to have a playdate with my library friends, including Rachel, who just had her second baby. Cancelled that almost as soon as I felt that hot forehead. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-4787251651768398689?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/4787251651768398689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=4787251651768398689' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/4787251651768398689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/4787251651768398689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/11/please-and-proud.html' title='Pleased and proud'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-6379321783382535594</id><published>2008-11-03T22:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T22:19:19.687-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlie talk'/><title type='text'>This is the thanks I get?</title><content type='html'>I spent a lot of time and effort cleaning things up yesterday. Seriously, my bedroom has been a mess since...well...hmm. It probably was semi-clean at some point during the girls' lives, but that was probably an illusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's not perfect now - the dresser is a little cluttered and there are some odds and ends that still need to be put away. Still, the big rubbermaid bins of clothes are no longer in the middle of the floor, the toys that remain in here are contained to one box, and generally the place looks like normal people live here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly wakes up and says "This floor is very clean!" and I think that's adorable. Yes, it is, Lilly, and we're going to keep it that way from now on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 20 minutes later, Kate surveys the place from her perch on the bed. She looks at me sadly and sweetly whines "I like it messy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-6379321783382535594?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/6379321783382535594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=6379321783382535594' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6379321783382535594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6379321783382535594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/11/this-is-thanks-i-get.html' title='This is the thanks I get?'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-9109247124899610163</id><published>2008-11-02T20:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T20:51:17.278-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'>Well that sure was a long trip!</title><content type='html'>Did you think I'd been in Orlando this whole time, soaking up the sun and ordering room-service sushi? Yeah, I didn't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip was OK. Kind of a bust. Got bumped from the swank hotel to the Residence Inn so instead of sushi I had to go down to the crappy bar and get a mediocre grouper sandwich and eat it in my room while watching the debate. Pffft!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But everyone survived. Ryan said the girls were just fine, and didn't cry much about me being gone. Oddly enough, tonight, when I mentioned that Grandpa Cesar (Ryan's Dad) lives in Florida, Lilly said "Just like you went to!" And then proceeded to tell me that she cried about me when I went to Florida and was very sad. She seemed in good spirits about the whole thing, so it doesn't seem any irreperable damage has taken place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a very nice Hulaween. That's not a misspelling, as the picture proves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="South Huntington Library party by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2987407657/"&gt;&lt;img height="500" alt="South Huntington Library party" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3225/2987407657_58179806ba.jpg" width="333" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They weren't really as grouchy as they look - it was very bright and the sun was right in their eyes. I think we may have overdone the Halloween events, though. Sunday the 26th was a costume party at Gymboree, then Wednesday we had a Halloween-ish-themed birthday party for some twins we're buddies with, Thursday was a costume party at the library (where this pic was taken) and by Trick-or-Treat on Friday, I was totally burnt out on the holiday! I think they might have been, too. They enjoyed the T-or-T but they were pretty quiet and got tired after maybe 10 houses. We do our T-or-T in my old neighborhood, with Grandma and Pop-pop, because they have sidewalks and it's more "neighborhoody" (plus they love it) so we went back to my parents' after that and that was that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend was recovery, house-cleaning, and general lack of excitement. I cleaned my bedroom and scrubbed my bathroom floor today. I can't tell you the last time that floor got scrubbed. Well, I could...but then I'd have to die of embarrassment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-9109247124899610163?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/9109247124899610163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=9109247124899610163' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/9109247124899610163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/9109247124899610163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/11/well-that-sure-was-long-trip.html' title='Well that sure was a long trip!'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3225/2987407657_58179806ba_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-7313659734933440850</id><published>2008-10-06T21:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T22:31:21.921-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><title type='text'>How do they know?</title><content type='html'>I'm going away tomorrow. Only for one night. Maybe 32 hours from the time I leave my house until the time I return. It's my first business trip in over 3 years, and I'm both anxious and excited. I'm going down to Orlando for a meeting between the agency for which I do all my work-at-home freelance and another agency. I was very flattered to be asked to go, and I feel like it's a good idea for professional and personal reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't mentioned it to the girls yet, because they don't really have much of a grasp on time right now, and I'd rather not cause anxiety for longer than necessary. I'll tell them tomorrow and I think that'll be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But somehow, they seem to know. Because tonight at bedtime they didn't want to listen to their usual bedtime CD of celtic lullabyes. They wanted me to sing to them. So I sang them their usual bedtime songs, &lt;a href="http://www.peterpaulandmary.com/music/f-07-05.htm"&gt;For Baby&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.mamalisa.com/?p=469&amp;amp;t=es&amp;amp;c=5"&gt;Duermete mi Nina&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/songs/i/israelkamakawiwoole6157/heleontokauai239743.html"&gt;Hele on to Kaua'i&lt;/a&gt; (I realize that last one is an odd choice - but for some reason it sprang out of my mouth one night when I was feeding them as tiny little infants, and it stuck). Then they made me sing &lt;a href="http://www.peterpaulandmary.com/music/f-03-04.htm"&gt;Rocky Road&lt;/a&gt;, which is on Daddy's greatest hits list, and he usually sings a super-upbeat version. I sang it far more slowly. Then they were still awake but very quiet, so I pulled out &lt;a href="http://www.lyricsondemand.com/soundtracks/s/thesoundofmusiclyrics/myfavoritethingslyrics.html"&gt;My Favorite Things&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://www.lyricsondemand.com/soundtracks/s/thesoundofmusiclyrics/thesoundofmusiclyrics.html"&gt;The Sound of Music&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all that, they were soundly asleep, both smooshed up against me (I'm always in the middle at bedtime). They were so sweet, and so soft, and so snuggly, that of course I cried at the thought of leaving them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may feel differently around 3am when they roll on into my room screaming for whatever 2-year-olds are screaming for at 3am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-7313659734933440850?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/7313659734933440850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=7313659734933440850' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/7313659734933440850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/7313659734933440850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-do-they-know.html' title='How do they know?'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-2043770780121998251</id><published>2008-10-02T23:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T23:44:14.468-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlie talk'/><title type='text'>This music will feel you big happy</title><content type='html'>That's what I heard Kate say to Lilly tonight when Lilly had been crying over banging her finger or something like that. I nearly choked on my water. Is she &lt;a href="http://www.engrish.com/"&gt;translated from Japanese&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That random little moment made up for a day filled with tantrums over toys forgotten at home, fighting over Legos, crying "I want to get out of here. I want to go to someone's house!" and then refusing to get in the damn car to go to the mall, and even the hour-long bedtime struggle, including the impromptu (and probably true, given how little they ate today) "I need a snack" 20 minutes after the lights were out (I got them cheese sticks and they fell asleep shortly after finishing).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They drive me nuts sometimes. But mostly, they feel me big happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-2043770780121998251?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/2043770780121998251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=2043770780121998251' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2043770780121998251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2043770780121998251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-music-will-feel-you-big-happy.html' title='This music will feel you big happy'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-447305285944350387</id><published>2008-09-22T22:10:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T22:31:23.485-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'>Leema, Lima, let's call the whole thing off</title><content type='html'>I'm eating a big bowl of fresh lima beans with butter and salt, courtesy of my Dad's garden. The girls didn't have much interest, and Ryan is working late, so they are mine, all mine! I saved the smaller, more-tender ones for last, and they've been swimming around in the butter, so I'm savoring them one-by-one, sans fork. I haven't been over to my parents' place to survey the garden lately, so I don't know whether more beans will be headed my way. I hope so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do Americans pronounce the "i" in "Lima" like "eye" rather than like "ee" as in the city of Lima, for which the beans are named?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my city-based work has ended for a while, which is fine for now. The money is great, but it's exhausting to go in there 3 days a week, then come home and deal with the girls. No decompression time, as Ryan is rarely home by their bedtime. I think there will be more home-based freelance coming my way. I do some work for a creative director I met last summer when he was at a big agency, and now he's at a small shop that just won some more new business. He asked me to send my resume so the account team can put together a team deck, so I assume that means I'm intended to be part of the team. I'm happy to do it. He's a great guy, both in the professional and personal sense, and absolutely a pleasure to work with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we need some girlie pictures in here, don't we? Yesterday we went to &lt;a href="http://www.adventureland.us/themepark/"&gt;Adventureland&lt;/a&gt;, with my friend Leanne and her family. To say they had a good time would be a massive understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Adventureland - 9/21/08 by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2877871756/"&gt;&lt;img height="375" alt="Adventureland - 9/21/08" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3158/2877871756_0497a667a7.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Adventureland - 9/21/08 by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2877870922/"&gt;&lt;img height="375" alt="Adventureland - 9/21/08" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3242/2877870922_89765427dd.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Adventureland - 9/21/08 by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2877039073/"&gt;&lt;img height="375" alt="Adventureland - 9/21/08" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3084/2877039073_13160e7864.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Adventureland - 9/21/08 by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2877040369/"&gt;&lt;img height="500" alt="Adventureland - 9/21/08" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3272/2877040369_575f1116f2.jpg" width="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Adventureland - 9/21/08 by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2877041907/"&gt;&lt;img height="500" alt="Adventureland - 9/21/08" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3178/2877041907_1563489601.jpg" width="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy (with Kate) had a good time, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="5/52 - My kids and me by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2877037213/"&gt;&lt;img height="500" alt="5/52 - My kids and me" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3075/2877037213_605fa82c88.jpg" width="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-447305285944350387?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/447305285944350387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=447305285944350387' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/447305285944350387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/447305285944350387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/09/leema-lima-lets-call-whole-thing-off.html' title='Leema, Lima, let&apos;s call the whole thing off'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3158/2877871756_0497a667a7_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-2455356332179201400</id><published>2008-09-16T23:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T23:09:41.012-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Working. A lot.</title><content type='html'>I've been doing a lot of work lately, for me. For the past few weeks, I've been in the city at my old agency job for 3 days (Tuesday, Thursday, Friday) and I've had conference calls for my work-at-home freelance stuff on Wednesday afternoons, plus assorted other stuff for that particular job in between at random times. It's been a bit rough! I'm appreciating the money, and the contact with my "old life" in the city, but I'm getting worn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will try and come back and write more tomorrow. But other than being pooped out, things are fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-2455356332179201400?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/2455356332179201400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=2455356332179201400' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2455356332179201400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2455356332179201400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/09/working-lot.html' title='Working. A lot.'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-364365970727449983</id><published>2008-08-16T22:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T22:58:50.126-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlie talk'/><title type='text'>Bless this mess?</title><content type='html'>Really, I could do without the blessings if someone would just come and clean the place up. I have a friend coming tomorrow for a short visit, and my sister-in-law and niece coming Tuesday and staying until Friday. No one who knows me expects housekeeping perfection, but still...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just pooped out from having Ryan gone for 3 days at Siggraph in LA, doing some freelance work, and trying to keep up with everything in the girls' world. It's a cute world, but very exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite moment of the week had to be on Friday afternoon. I was folding some laundry in my bedroom, and they were playing with some stuff on the floor. Katie looked at me and said "Seeya later Mom, we going to play!" and they both walked out of my room and into theirs. I am pretty sure flies were going in and out of my mouth, it was hanging open for so long. First of all, when did I become "Mom"? And since when do they tell me their plans? Since when do they have plans? Crazy! A little while later I poked my head in and found them sitting together on their bed, with about 20 books spread out around them. Damn camera was downstairs, so you'll just have to take my word for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-364365970727449983?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/364365970727449983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=364365970727449983' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/364365970727449983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/364365970727449983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/08/bless-this-mess.html' title='Bless this mess?'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-3193922312570398093</id><published>2008-08-14T23:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T23:47:19.829-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prematurity'/><title type='text'>Not much variation on the theme</title><content type='html'>Sorry to be all preemie all the time lately. I don't know why, but sometimes the experience haunts me more than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was in a local outlet-ish mall, and I saw a woman with a double snap'n'go, walking with a friend who had a single version. All 3 babies were peacefully asleep in their carseats, looking as angelic and wonderful and healthy as could be. I asked how old they were and the twin mom said hers were 5 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five weeks. She was in the mall with her peacefully-sleeping twins at 5 weeks. Where was I at 5 weeks? We had just been moved out of nursery A" - the highest level of care. The girls had been co-bedded for about a week. They were both still on a pretty decent dose of oxygen via nasal cannula, and both had NG tubes. We were able to hold them, but we had to check with a nurse first, tangle with the monitors and the tubes, and endure the stares of the nurses when they felt the babies needed to go back into their isolettes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were awfully cute, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://ryanophelan.com/twins/feb15/images/206_feb_13%20010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(That's Lilly yawning)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.ryanophelan.com/twins/feb15/images/206_feb_13%20017.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, seeing her threw me into a weird place. No matter how good life is and how healthy and delightful the girls are (and boy are they ever!) I'm never really going to fully get "over" this, am I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-3193922312570398093?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/3193922312570398093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=3193922312570398093' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3193922312570398093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3193922312570398093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/08/not-much-variation-on-theme.html' title='Not much variation on the theme'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5111788021743139646</id><published>2008-08-08T21:33:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T21:50:56.640-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prematurity'/><title type='text'>Party of four and not one more</title><content type='html'>A very lame, yet overly dramatic (on my part) pregnancy scare has been put to bed. That's a relief. I don't even feel that twinge of regret that I have felt in the past (before we were even trying to have babies) when a scare like that has turned out to be false. I really just feel like my family is complete. Aside from the practical considerations (I'd probably have to go back to work, we'd have to move or add on to our house, I'm scared of having another preemie) I just really feel like our family is complete as it is. There are times when I think I want to be pregnant or have another baby, but that's not really true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want is my twin pregnancy back. I want to know what it's like to be so big and pregnant that people stare at you in public and wonder aloud how many babies are in there, for pete's sake. I want to know what it's like to drive to the hospital, happy and excited to finally be in labor. To birth my babies, have them placed on my bare chest, and have them nurse. To hold my newborns and smile for photos. To take them both home together, no oxygen tanks, no monitors, no trauma under our belt. To only use a breast pump here and there, so I can get a little break from nursing, or go out on a date. To go out alone that first year without an overwhelming sense of guilt and anxiety and the need to rush back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A third baby isn't going to solve any of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I love my relationship with my girls. It just works. Although they have to share me, somehow it works out OK. It's weird sometimes, when I realize that genetically, they are more closely related to each other than they are to me. But I love being their Mommy, their go-to-girl, pretty much the center of their world. I love being able to observe the amazing interactions between them. It makes me ache to think about diluting any of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure some of that is normal, and some is not. How much comes from the trauma surrounding their birth, I don't know. How much of that will subside with time and more therapy, I have no idea. But tonight, I'm relieved to be just me, not +1.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5111788021743139646?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5111788021743139646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5111788021743139646' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5111788021743139646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5111788021743139646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/08/party-of-four-and-not-one-more.html' title='Party of four and not one more'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-6156196758817085940</id><published>2008-08-06T08:26:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T23:52:29.039-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><title type='text'>It's been a nice, dry summer so far</title><content type='html'>So of course the morning I'm supposed to have my "library friends" (we all met during a 10-week play class for the kids) over, we had thunderstorms at 7am and it's still raining on and off. The plan was to play in the yard. I have a pretty small house and no dedicated playroom. And I'm a lousy housekeeper. I have until 10:15 to hope the yard dries out, or build an extension on my house and clean it all up nicely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDITED TO UPDATE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything went fine. The rain stopped, the yard dried out enough for us to play back there. The kids had a great time, the moms had fun, and I even got a good nap out of the girls afterwards. Then we went to see my parents, who hadn't seen the girls in over a week - heaven forbid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a nice time there, got in the car (all jammied and ready to sleep) just before 9. I pulled into my driveway after the 20ish-minute drive, and Lilly was just-asleep, while Kate was staring blankly. I decided to just go for it, since Kate was clearly relaxed enough to go right to sleep. You see where this is going, don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I open Kate's door, figuring I'll bring her up, ask her to wait while I get Lilly, and then maybe sit with her for 5 minutes as she passes out. She looks at me through bleary eyes, then spits out her binky, gives me &lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3035/2638175608_920c1bfca6.jpg?v=0"&gt;this face&lt;/a&gt;, and cackles loudly, waking up her sister, who says "Ooh! We are at my home!" and giggles maniacally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should've driven around the block a few more times, apparently. About 30 minutes later they were both happily asleep anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-6156196758817085940?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/6156196758817085940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=6156196758817085940' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6156196758817085940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6156196758817085940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-been-nice-dry-summer-so-far.html' title='It&apos;s been a nice, dry summer so far'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-1310550700400647221</id><published>2008-08-02T23:45:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T23:55:29.071-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prematurity'/><title type='text'>Sleeping beauties</title><content type='html'>I was coming up to bed and just peeked in on the girls. Something about the way Lilly was laying reminded me her as a teeny tiny baby in the NICU. I don't know really what it was, but I just got such a powerful feeling of looking back at her in those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent a lot of time watching them sleep back then. They didn't do much else, other than drink milk, and back in the very earliest days they didn't even do that (they were fed by nasogastric tube for about the first month). I couldn't really bear to be anywhere else most of the time, so we sat there and watched them sleep. They were the most compelling little sleeping people I could ever have imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They still are. I went back to take a picture, but in the 30 seconds I was out of the room, she moved and I missed the moment. It's OK - that and all the other sleeping moments are in my heart forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2726468153/" title="IMG_0481 by betseeee, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3197/2726468153_19aa6dbaa6_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="IMG_0481" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-1310550700400647221?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/1310550700400647221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=1310550700400647221' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1310550700400647221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1310550700400647221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/08/sleeping-beauties.html' title='Sleeping beauties'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3197/2726468153_19aa6dbaa6_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-2855665646561336229</id><published>2008-08-01T00:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T00:03:13.300-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beach fun'/><title type='text'>That's right, just throw the camera out now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2721704598/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3085/2721704598_8bd10d3a1f_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Because really, can it get any cuter than this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haven't posted much lately because I'm so burnt. The babysitter, Janine, is awesome, but the girls won't take a normal nap when she's here, and that is causing havoc with their entire sleep "schedule." The late summer nights (like tonight) at the beach and various other venues probably aren't helping, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What it means for me is a lot of cranky afternoons for all of us, because they are tired but can't settle for a nap (or it's too late for one) and I didn't get 10 minutes to myself all freaking day. Nothing good can come of that, ya know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But damn, when they are cute, they are cute!&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-2855665646561336229?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/2855665646561336229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=2855665646561336229' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2855665646561336229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2855665646561336229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/08/that-right-just-throw-camera-out-now.html' title='That&amp;#39;s right, just throw the camera out now'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3085/2721704598_8bd10d3a1f_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-846898703687791175</id><published>2008-07-18T15:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T15:07:11.474-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's getting hot in here</title><content type='html'>But not too hot, thank goodness. Today I am grateful to my husband for putting the air conditioner in the dining room window this past weekend. It's 93 degrees, and although weather.com says it's only 38% humidity, it sure doesn't feel like a dry heat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the morning at a local &lt;a href="http://www.onceuponatreetop.com/"&gt;play place&lt;/a&gt;. We've been there twice before, and the college-aged girls who work there now recognize the girls right away and like to play with them. The place is awesome, and has this great climbing thing at one end, which gives you access to a big curvy slide and the treehouse. When we first got there (as usual) it was pretty packed with the bigger kids, and mine were too intimidated to really do much - Katie more so than Lilly, but still, both of them kind of hung back. After lunch, the place really clears out for naptime. Rather than deal with the tantrums, I always let them stay until 2pm when they kick everyone out, and that last hour is heaven for the girls. There were maybe 6 other kids left, so there was plenty of space for all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got out of there at 2:15 without much protest, and by 2:18 they were out cold in the car. Luckily, they have developed the ability to transfer from car to bed for naptime without waking up. All I have to do is climb up all 26 or so stairs between my driveway and their bedroom. Twice. Then go back and grab the bags, or the giant McD's sweet tea I couldn't resist on the way home. Then sit back and enjoy the air conditioning and hope for a nice long nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what the rest of the day will hold. I don't really even want to go play in the yard, it's so hot. Maybe I'll take them shoe shopping. I think their feet may actually have grown another size. I wonder if Stride Rite still has any sandals left? Every other store seems to think it's September. Grr.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-846898703687791175?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/846898703687791175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=846898703687791175' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/846898703687791175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/846898703687791175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-getting-hot-in-here.html' title='It&apos;s getting hot in here'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-197652168688733890</id><published>2008-07-09T23:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T23:28:32.823-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Do they know it's (not) Christmastime?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2653722503/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3102/2653722503_584df5a109_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2653722503/"&gt;Is it Christmas already?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/betseeee/"&gt;betseeee&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We decided to hit the kiddie pool this afternoon, as it was quite hot and humid. I got the girls in their bathing suits, and before we went outside, they decided they needed to have their Santa hats (which are in their toy bins always, because they love them so much.) They wore them for at least an hour before getting them wet. Aunt Beth, Bobby, and Sarah came over and were greatly amused by the unconventional headwear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other bright news, we had the exterminator back in on Monday and have only seen 3-4 fleas in the basement and garage since then. I think there's definitely light at the end of that tunnel.&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-197652168688733890?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/197652168688733890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=197652168688733890' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/197652168688733890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/197652168688733890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/07/do-they-know-it-not-christmastime.html' title='Do they know it&amp;#39;s (not) Christmastime?'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3102/2653722503_584df5a109_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5738204733259824242</id><published>2008-07-02T22:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T23:08:03.608-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><title type='text'>Reading is fun(damental)!</title><content type='html'>Did anyone else's school participate in the RIF program when you were a kid? I was an avid and early reader (according to my Mom, I taught myself to read at 4, and basically convinced my parents that preschool had taught me, and preschool that my parents had taught me) so for me it was primarily a way to reinforce an already-existing habit. I loved it, though - free books! Right up my alley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I found this on &lt;a href="http://lemmondrops.blogspot.com/"&gt;Emilie's&lt;/a&gt; blog, I thought it'd be fun to do.  Instructions are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The &lt;a href="http://neabigread.org/"&gt;Big Read&lt;/a&gt; reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they've printed.&lt;br /&gt;1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.&lt;br /&gt;2) Italicize those you intend to read.&lt;br /&gt;3) Underline the books you LOVE.&lt;br /&gt;4) Reprint this list in your blog so we can try and track down these people who've read 6 and force books upon them ;-)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien&lt;br /&gt;3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling - I can't bold this but I've read a few of them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;6 The Bible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte&lt;br /&gt;8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles&lt;/em&gt; - &lt;em&gt;Thomas Hardy&lt;br /&gt;13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;14 Complete Works of Shakespeare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger&lt;br /&gt;20 Middlemarch - George Eliot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh&lt;br /&gt;27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky&lt;br /&gt;28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck&lt;br /&gt;29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy&lt;br /&gt;32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;34 Emma - Jane Austen&lt;br /&gt;35 Persuasion - Jane Austen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini&lt;br /&gt;38 Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne&lt;br /&gt;41 Animal Farm - George Orwell&lt;br /&gt;42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;44 A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving - my all-time favorite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding&lt;br /&gt;50 Atonement - Ian McEwan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel&lt;br /&gt;52 Dune - Frank Herbert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth&lt;br /&gt;56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon&lt;br /&gt;57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon&lt;br /&gt;60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck&lt;br /&gt;62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt&lt;br /&gt;64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold&lt;br /&gt;65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas&lt;br /&gt;66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy&lt;br /&gt;68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69 Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie&lt;br /&gt;70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville&lt;br /&gt;71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;72 Dracula - Bram Stoker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson&lt;br /&gt;75 Ulysses - James Joyce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome&lt;br /&gt;78 Germinal - Emile Zola&lt;br /&gt;79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray&lt;br /&gt;80 Possession - AS Byatt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell&lt;br /&gt;83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro - I tried so hard to read this. One day I will succeed.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;87 Charlotte's Web - EB White&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom&lt;br /&gt;89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle&lt;br /&gt;90 The Faraway Tree Collection&lt;br /&gt;91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad&lt;br /&gt;92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery&lt;br /&gt;93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;94 Watership Down - Richard Adams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole&lt;br /&gt;96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute&lt;br /&gt;97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare&lt;br /&gt;99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like 41 for me. Some (&lt;em&gt;Jude the Obscure) &lt;/em&gt; I remember reading, but wouldn't know again if I tripped over them. Some (&lt;em&gt;Anne of Green Gables, A Prayer for Owen Meany) &lt;/em&gt;are my "desert island" books. I could, and have, read them over and over and over again. Some (&lt;em&gt;Watership Down, Lolita) &lt;/em&gt;I read when I was too young for them, and probably ought to read again. I only italicized a few on my "to read" list, because really I'd probably like to read all of these but don't imagine I'll have the time until I'm quite old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5738204733259824242?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5738204733259824242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5738204733259824242' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5738204733259824242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5738204733259824242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/07/reading-is-fundamental.html' title='Reading is fun(damental)!'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-822349604027611736</id><published>2008-06-24T22:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T22:56:38.876-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fleas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='panic'/><title type='text'>If my blog suddenly stops one day</title><content type='html'>It'll be because all the "that took 5 years off my life" moments these children have given me have finally added up to shorten my life expectancy down to the present day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a window in the girls' room, over their bed. They really aren't tall enough to sit in it if the bottom is opened, but I still never let it stay open at the bottom - I only open it from the top, which is virtually impossible for them to reach and fall out of, without some serious Cirque du Soleil action. Still, I worry sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like today, when I came out of the shower, and heard Katie saying quietly and sadly "my stistah...my stistah...my stistah..." and I see that she's sitting alone on the bed. I immediately looked at the window, and the screen was intact, nothing had changed at all, but my heart still jumped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Lilly popped out from under the covers and said "Here I am!" and they both laughed maniacally. I ran back into my room and tried not to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did some laundry today in the basement. There are still fleas down there. Goddamned fucking fleas. Not as many as before, that's for sure. But they are still there. On the upside, our basement floor is the cleanest its ever been, what with us having to vacuum down there every single day. We're also supporting the Eureka vacuum bag industry, what with having to throw out the vacuum bag after each vacuuming, lest some fleas should escape and lay more eggs in my home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-822349604027611736?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/822349604027611736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=822349604027611736' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/822349604027611736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/822349604027611736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/06/if-my-blog-suddenly-stops-one-day.html' title='If my blog suddenly stops one day'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-1628406890389703192</id><published>2008-06-23T16:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T16:12:44.460-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fleas'/><title type='text'>A little less itchy</title><content type='html'>I think we may be turning the corner in our flea battle. Last night Ryan threw out some stupid old carpet tiles that the previous owners had put down in the basement, and ripped some old junky carpeting off the bottom step of the staircase. I don't know why I didn't think of that before. I &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt; ask him to toss the carpet tiles earlier in the day, but somehow I guess I thought the carpet on the step (which was &lt;em&gt;really really &lt;/em&gt;old and crappy and only on that one step for some reason) was immoveable. Not Ryan - he attacked and vanquished that carpet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About an hour later, he went down there barefoot and only found 2 fleas on him. Prior to last night, there would've been at least 20 within a minute. So, I think this is progress! I have not been brave enough to reproduce his experiment today. Maybe after the girls are in bed and he's back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another good sign - I haven't had to use the hydrocortisone except for one time since we came back from the hotel Thursday night. Please let this trend continue!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-1628406890389703192?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/1628406890389703192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=1628406890389703192' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1628406890389703192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1628406890389703192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/06/little-less-itchy.html' title='A little less itchy'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-9206843904609357962</id><published>2008-06-21T23:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T23:12:05.390-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'>I pick, you eat</title><content type='html'>That's apparently what Katie thought the sign said at the pick-your-own strawberry place today. She was grabbing those suckers out of the basket almost as fast as I could put them in, at one point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Strawberry picking by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2599397400/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" alt="Strawberry picking" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3226/2599397400_590715d0da_m.jpg" width="160" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Strawberry picking by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2599396288/"&gt;&lt;img height="160" alt="Strawberry picking" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3070/2599396288_48e6833c58_m.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually she either got bored, hot, or full, and went off to play with her sister. Ryan caught a few spontaneous huggy-kissy moments while I was busily filling up our strawberry basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Strawberry picking by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2598561891/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" alt="Strawberry picking" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3100/2598561891_b05055cbf6_m.jpg" width="160" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Strawberry picking by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2598561973/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" alt="Strawberry picking" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3122/2598561973_e7a9ff9e81_m.jpg" width="160" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Strawberry picking by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2598561973/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For kids out picking strawberries at high noon (that's what happens when you decide at 9:50am that strawberry picking is the plan for the day) they did remarkably well. Only a little cranky towards the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These beauties are waiting in my fridge for tomorrow, when I should have the energy to make jam with some, stuff our faces with some of the others, and maybe cover some with chocolate before stuffing our faces with those. Yum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Strawberry picking results by betseeee, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2598559189/"&gt;&lt;img height="240" alt="Strawberry picking results" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3046/2598559189_c8b0aae08a_m.jpg" width="160" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-9206843904609357962?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/9206843904609357962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=9206843904609357962' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/9206843904609357962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/9206843904609357962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-pick-you-eat.html' title='I pick, you eat'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3226/2599397400_590715d0da_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-9105398733061189359</id><published>2008-06-20T15:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T15:36:20.312-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlie talk'/><title type='text'>Overheard in the car</title><content type='html'>There's nothing funnier than listening to the girls chatter away in the back seat. I've gotten to the point that a lot of times I don't even turn on the radio, because I am having so much fun eavesdropping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look at dat big airplane! It is a blue angel!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No Lilly. Dat is not a blue angel. Dat is a different airplane."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh. OK."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(we drive past a daycare center with an outdoor playground)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to go there! I want to go there, Mommy!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We cannot go there, Lilly. There are all the kids in that house. We do not have the key to that house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh. Hey look! Sliday's!" (TGI Friday's restaurant)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We go there with Grandma and Pop-pop and we eat food!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was all one conversation. It's surreal. I remember when the only "conversation" I heard in the car was one baby crying and the second baby joining in, just for the hell of it. It's amazing how far they have come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-9105398733061189359?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/9105398733061189359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=9105398733061189359' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/9105398733061189359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/9105398733061189359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/06/overheard-in-car.html' title='Overheard in the car'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-3330649093371134828</id><published>2008-06-19T21:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T21:50:40.060-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fleas'/><title type='text'>That was fun, but...</title><content type='html'>We still have fleas. I think I'm going to shoot myself. Or burn the house down. With the cats in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The exterminator used Ultracide and Suspend, which are supposed to be these awesome flea killers. He said he absolutely saturated our basement, which is where the problem was so horrendous. The Ultracide information did say we might see a few residual fleas because those that are in the pupal stage have to hatch and then die. OK, I was prepared for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was not prepared to go down to my basement 24 hours after treatment (wearing white knee-high sweatsocks - I'm not stupid) and be attacked by at least 50 fleas. I swear, it seems like it was worse than before he sprayed. I think I may have a breakdown over this. I'm clearly going to call the exterminator company in the morning and find out if this is their definition of "residual." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a shame, because we really had a lovely time at the hotel and the rest of today. We went swimming after breakfast in the indoor pool (it was actually too cool this morning to swim outside), and then after the girls took a nap in the car we went to a local petting zoo/play place and had a really great time, followed by a pleasant dinner. I was on a big happy high until I went downstairs and became engulfed by critters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what could have gone wrong. The only thing I can think of is that the spray doesn't work on unfinished concrete. All the label stuff I've found about it talks about using it on carpet and upholstery. But that feels like a pretty flimsy reason. There are other sorts of random dead bugs around, so I know we weren't completely scammed or anything, and this company has been around for decades. My friend has been very happy with their general services, which is why we used them in the first place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need to solve this, fast. I'm going through 1% hydrocortisone cream faster than any human ought to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-3330649093371134828?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/3330649093371134828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=3330649093371134828' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3330649093371134828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3330649093371134828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/06/that-was-fun-but.html' title='That was fun, but...'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-8330075721406796541</id><published>2008-06-18T23:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T00:25:06.588-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fleas'/><title type='text'>The Exterminator</title><content type='html'>The guy who came out to our house today was really nice. One of the first things he said when he looked around my livingroom was "Wow, that's the most beautiful ketubah I've ever seen! Ours is nowhere near that cool!" That made my day. He was also kind enough to call my cell a few minutes after I left and let me know I forgot my camera, and he'd put it on the front porch. What a mensch! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now we're in the Hyatt Regency, where the girls and I enjoyed a quick but nice dinner in the hotel restaurant (we were the only people there for most of the meal, which is always good when dining with toddlers). The only mishap was when Katie grabbed my placemat and spilled my strawberry lemondrop martini all over my pants. Bleh. The waiter was sweet and got me a new one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan didn't get here until nearly 9:30, and given the excitement of him arriving, being overtired and in a strange place, and generally being crazy, the girls went to sleep pretty easily. Right now they are parked on the bed and we're headed there momentarily. Smart move of the week goes to Ryan for saying we should just get the king bed and sleep with them, because if we got 2 doubles they'd never stay in theirs if we were in the room, and then we'd all be squished in one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, the plan is to swim swim swim! The girls saw the pool and went nuts, so it's got to be done. There's an outdoor pool and an indoor one, so very little could foil that plan, right? (Why do I tempt fate this way?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-8330075721406796541?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/8330075721406796541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=8330075721406796541' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8330075721406796541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8330075721406796541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/06/exterminator.html' title='The Exterminator'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-7381064503097180754</id><published>2008-06-17T13:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T13:12:32.818-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><title type='text'>Scratchy times</title><content type='html'>We've been attacked by fleas. It's partly my own fault. We have 2 cats - Cleo, who goes outside a lot, and Serena, who hardly ever does and spends most of her time in our basement. Stupidly, last month, I put Frontline Plus on Cleo, but not on Serena. Well, surely Cleo brought in a couple of fleas, they found Serena in the basement, and set up shop. I went down there late last week and they swarmed me. I have never seen so many fleas on my feet. Absolutely horrifying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the weekend we put down some herb-based powder on our only rug upstairs and on the furniture, and we bombed the basement. I went down there the next day and was hit with only a slightly smaller (and seemingly angrier, though I am probably anthropomorphizing with that last bit). So, we called the professionals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not thrilled to have to do it, but they are coming tomorrow afternoon to treat the basement and the lower level of the house. The inspector guy recommended not treating the bedrooms right now, because the big problem is in the basement. He tried really hard to find some fleas in our livingroom rug, and couldn't, so he figures it's not too bad up here and it'd be best to avoid chemicals in the bedrooms if possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, they require you to stay out of the house for 4 hours. But because we have kids with a history of lung disease, we get to stay out for 24 hours. We can go to Grandma's, or we can find a hotel. Ryan wants to find a hotel with a pool, which would be fun if he's actually going to take the day off - otherwise it's just a tease as I cannot go swimming with 2 toddlers all by myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, as much as it'd be cheaper to stay at my parents', I kind of like the idea of a hotel. I love hotels. I'm going to try and convince him he needs to take the day off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-7381064503097180754?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/7381064503097180754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=7381064503097180754' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/7381064503097180754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/7381064503097180754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/06/scratchy-times.html' title='Scratchy times'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5948642786020069192</id><published>2008-06-15T23:01:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T23:26:27.797-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebrations'/><title type='text'>Happy 5th Anniversary, Happy Father's Day</title><content type='html'>June 15, 2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd do it all again, even the hard parts. And now that we have our two beautiful daughters, it seems even nicer that we got married on Father's Day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a whirlwind, like late May/early June always is in this family. Mother's Day, then Memorial Day, then my birthday, my mother's birthday, our anniversary, and Father's Day, all within a 4-week period. I'll try and get back to regular posting now that the madness has passed for a while. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5948642786020069192?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5948642786020069192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5948642786020069192' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5948642786020069192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5948642786020069192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/06/happy-5th-anniversary-happy-fathers-day.html' title='Happy 5th Anniversary, Happy Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-1182810610696895375</id><published>2008-06-02T23:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T09:47:25.604-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>It's my birthday and I'll blog if I want to</title><content type='html'>I already had the day mentally planned, nothing too exciting, but some time for myself. I have a noon appointment with my therapist (made without noticing the date) so my parents were coming to get the kids at 11, and I figured I'd grab a quiet lunch, maybe do a little shopping or go up to the beach for a bit, then meet them for dinner somewhere. But Ryan ended up taking the day off at the last minute, so now I am thrown for a loop! It's a nice change, but I'm not sure whether I should cancel my parents' coming to take them or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll figure it out later. Right now I am enjoying sitting upstairs with my laptop, quietly checking emails and posting, rather than what I'd normally be doing right now, dodging flying yogurt and oatmeal bowls in the dining room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-1182810610696895375?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/1182810610696895375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=1182810610696895375' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1182810610696895375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1182810610696895375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-my-birthday-and-ill-blog-if-i-want.html' title='It&apos;s my birthday and I&apos;ll blog if I want to'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-2120265983539167426</id><published>2008-05-30T21:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T21:18:33.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's in a name?</title><content type='html'>Should I rename this blog? I mean, I don't knit much these days, and even when I do start knitting again, it's probably not going to be a knit-centric blog anymore. There's just too much other stuff in my life. I feel kind of attached to "betseeee knits" but I also think it's kind of silly to write all this stuff about my kids, house, and random personal stuff under that title. What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-2120265983539167426?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/2120265983539167426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=2120265983539167426' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2120265983539167426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/2120265983539167426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/whats-in-name.html' title='What&apos;s in a name?'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5181862457643092696</id><published>2008-05-26T23:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T23:40:29.486-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><title type='text'>What a great weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;We really had a wonderful Memorial Day weekend. The weather was basically perfect - warm, not-too-hot, bright sunshine, no rain. We had an early playdate on Saturday with the neighbors who live behind us. They have an almost-5-year-old daughter, and an almost-3-year-old son, and a 10-week old daughter. The kids are adorable, and the parents are super nice. Really super nice. Like, Ned Flanders nice. They brought sticky buns and used the phrase "yummers" when I said we had bagels and lox. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;On Sunday we had a BBQ over here because my cousin Rachel was in town with her boyfriend, who none of us had met before. Her Mom came down from CT, and my parents came over, of course, too. I made yummy &lt;a href="http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/lampes-chicken-wings-with-sweet-and-spicy-pantry-sauce"&gt;chicken wings&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/bbq-planked-salmon"&gt;cedar-planked salmon&lt;/a&gt;, which everyone seemed to really enjoy. Actually, I really want more of those wings right now. Yum. The boyfriend is really a great guy and very personable. I hope they get married. The girls loved everyone and everything, doing all their "tricks" including a new one - blowing off their afternoon nap completely. Ack! Bedtime was early that night, but their sleep was very interrupted and today's nap was shortened, too. I hope the fallout does not continue tomorrow. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today we laid low at home, other than lunch at the diner and a trip to the Home Despot. While the girls napped, I weeded my garden, put up a new little edging fence around it (the reason we went to the Despot in the first place), and planted tomatoes and peppers. I wasn't really sure I was going to do a garden this year, but my Dad (who starts his own veggie seeds) had a bunch of extra plants and offered them to me. I accepted, thus forcing the issue. I'm so glad I did. There's not much yummier (yummers-ier?) than fresh ripe tomatoes in the summer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The only dim spot in the weekend was a situation with my next-door neighbor. She is a very nice, maybe not-so-bright single mother of a very bright, very manipulative, but also very personable almost-7-year-old who I'll call Jenny. We don't have fences in our neighborhood, and since we moved here 3 years ago, Jenny has always come across to our backyard and we've played with her. Ryan more so than me. As she's gotten older, her mom has given her a lot more freedom, and basically just lets her come outside and pretty much counts on me letting her play in our yard, and keeping an eye on her. Most of the time she doesn't even come out herself until it's time to call Jenny in for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find this pretty frustrating. I have 2 kids to take care of already, and the thing is Jenny doesn't want to play with the girls. She spends a couple of minutes pushing them on the swing or whatever, but for the most part she wants me to play with her. I know she's very high-energy and her mom runs out of steam, but it's not really fair to constantly pawn her off on us. But then, I have never sent her home (successfully, at least) and when her mom has said "I hope Jenny's not bothering you" I've never said "Well yeah, she kinda is..." because who can say that without coming off as a bitch?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on Saturday when everyone was here, Jenny saw us outside and came right over. Her mom said "Jenny, stay away from the kids - you have a fever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, what? Your kid has a fever and you let her come over here to play with just a lame warning? I know I should've said something right there and sent her home, but I felt so uncomfortable with the confrontation, and I assumed that her Mom would come back out in 15-20 minutes or so and say come on home, you're sick, or something. She never did, and Jenny was at our house for the whole afternoon. Ryan told her she needed to go once, and my Mom told her twice. But she just lingered. Short of taking her by the arm and walking her home, there was no getting rid of her. I actually don't even know  how she ended up out of here at the end of the day - she just eventually disappeared, as far as I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, she showed up again. Her Mom came after her to remind her not to get too close to the girls because she's still sick. I looked at  her Mom and said, pretty sarcastically, "Well, she was here all day yesterday..." and she smiles brightly and says "And the girls are OK?" At that point I was so pissed-off that I just said "That wasn't exactly my point. She was sick, she was  here all day, and she was asked to leave several times." (I'm pretty sure Jenny wasn't paying attention to this conversation, but not certain) Her mom looked at me and said "Oh. That wasn't what I was told." and I said well, that's what happened, and she said "Well we're going to have to have a talk about that," looked towards Jenny, told her they had to go, walked away without saying goodbye and went in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan thinks I was absolutely in the right, but not very diplomatic, and now thinks that Jenny's Mom is pissed-off. I interpreted what she said as embarrassment - partly at her kid's behavior, and partly at her own negligence. Either way, I'm glad I said something, and this was really my only opportunity to do so, but I don't know where to proceed from here. I don't want her never to come over, but I can't be responsible for someone's high-needs kid (who isn't even really a playmate to my kids) for hours at a time, and even more so when I am having a family gathering, not to mention I don't want a sick kid hanging out with my kids for hours on end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish we'd had the stupid confrontation yesterday, so it wasn't the last thing lingering from the weekend. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5181862457643092696?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5181862457643092696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5181862457643092696' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5181862457643092696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5181862457643092696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-great-weekend.html' title='What a great weekend'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-7929834932836354232</id><published>2008-05-21T23:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T23:56:28.952-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Thinking about acronyms</title><content type='html'>I was invited to and joined an industry group with a very intentionally amusing acronym as its name. For months they just existed as a group on LinkedIn.com but earleir this week they had a get-together at a hip bar in the city. I didn't go, and didn't think twice about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I got an email with a little photo recap from the event, and it made me feel strange. I saw a bunch of people I used to work with and really used to enjoy hanging out with at work, in bars, wherever. And it made me miss that life a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not enough to want to go back to work full time, but enough to make me want to go to the next party, and to get out a bit more, try and find some balance in my life. I don't know if that last bit is actually possible. But I think I can manage to find someone in addition to my parents to watch my kids so next time I don't have to either sit this one out, or beg my parents for a nighttime favor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-7929834932836354232?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/7929834932836354232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=7929834932836354232' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/7929834932836354232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/7929834932836354232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/thinking-about-acronyms.html' title='Thinking about acronyms'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5480017159431249408</id><published>2008-05-20T22:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T22:56:33.031-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My belated Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Well, we got a swingset and it almost immediately started raining. Sorry, fellow NYers - it's our fault.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I realized I never got around to recapping my fabulous solo Saturday. First off, the mailman brought my beautiful bracelet, which I absolutely love. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/betseeee/2505350971/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3050/2505350971_7d1f19216b_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then I was off to the mall, to try and spend my Banana Republic gift certificate left from Chrismukah. First I stopped off at Starbucks and got an iced caramel latte and a tarragon chicken sandwich. I sat and ate in absolute peace right in the middle of the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That might not sound noteworthy, but if you have toddler twins (or infant twins, or any age twins that are still riding in a stroller while you shop) there is no such thing as peace. First there's the not-peace that exists as a natural offshoot of having two small children with you. Then there's the not-peace that comes from all the people who come over to admire your twins and ask you questions about them. I won't get into all the specific questions, but "are they twins?" is the opener, and from there we delve into birth methods, birthweights, personality differences, opinions on whether I should dress them alike/put them in the same class, and usually a detour into the cousin's friend's sister-in-law who had preemie twins and they turned out great, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes it sort of hard to just relax and enjoy a snack and a drink. But being there alone, I was totally anonymous. No one paid me any attention, and I felt so free! I found a shirt and some jeans at BR, failed to find a bra at Victoria's Secret, and went on my merry way to the car wash. I had Ryan's car and felt like I wanted to do something kind for him, so I got it washed while I was out. Aren't I just so nice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The centerpiece of the day was a manicure and pedicure. Sitting there for an hour with no one climbing on me was lovely, and it really felt nice to treat myself a little bit. I was seated next to an older mom whose younger child had just gone to his senior prom the night before, so it was fun to compare notes on the different stages of motherhood we're at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post-mani/pedi I went to TJ Maxx and found a black belt to replace an old one which was too narrow for today's styles, and a cheap-but-functional armband for my nano. (I'm hoping that motivates me to start running again.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hit Trader Joe's for some groceries, and then met the girls and Ryan at home and headed out for sushi. The ladies were almost-perfect at dinner, and I really thought to myself what a perfect day it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then 5 minutes before bedtime, Lilly found a tube of 1% hydrocortisone (used for her occasional eczema) that I had probably left too close to the edge of her dresser and bit into it. Ryan lunged at her to scrape the cream out of her mouth, scared the crap out of her, and she got completely hysterical. I took her to my room so I could get the phone and call Poison Control to see if we needed to do anything* (even though we were both pretty sure she had ingested a minute amount, if anything). Then she stopped crying. And barfed edamame, noodles, rice, and salad (and not a single visible trace of hydrocortisone cream) all over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe just-slightly-less-than perfect.&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5480017159431249408?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5480017159431249408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5480017159431249408' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5480017159431249408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5480017159431249408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-belated-mother-day.html' title='My belated Mother&amp;#39;s Day'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3050/2505350971_7d1f19216b_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-8254674756402051963</id><published>2008-05-19T21:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T22:22:09.850-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlie talk'/><title type='text'>Anyone into swinging?</title><content type='html'>It's here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDIvCIhUd4I/AAAAAAAACTI/jt_p8Tvzlxg/s1600-h/may_19_swings+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDIvCIhUd4I/AAAAAAAACTI/jt_p8Tvzlxg/s320/may_19_swings+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDIvCYhUd5I/AAAAAAAACTQ/dDz2YjEGl1o/s1600-h/may_19_swings+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDIvCYhUd5I/AAAAAAAACTQ/dDz2YjEGl1o/s320/may_19_swings+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDIvC4hUd6I/AAAAAAAACTY/EYCpHy8PGWc/s1600-h/may_19_swings+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDIvC4hUd6I/AAAAAAAACTY/EYCpHy8PGWc/s320/may_19_swings+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDIvDIhUd7I/AAAAAAAACTg/a04FLX91waA/s1600-h/may_19_swings+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDIvDIhUd7I/AAAAAAAACTg/a04FLX91waA/s320/may_19_swings+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of these are really great photos, but we really didn't get to play long outside. It was unseasonably chilly today, and the girls and their friends Bobby and Sarah who were over actually wanted to go inside. The moms agreed. But boy did they enjoy it while they were out there! I'm really annoyed that tomorrow is supposed to be cloudy, chilly, and rainy in the afternoon. How am I supposed to keep them inside now that this thing is out there?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the whole swingset adventure put them in a better mood than usual tonight. They were adorable in the tub, and afterwards. I wrapped them up together in a big towel, and they were all snuggly and warm and started hugging and kissing. Lilly told Katie "You are my best fwiend, Katie." And Katie took a cue from &lt;a href="http://danzanes.com/familydance/song_yo.shtml"&gt;this song&lt;/a&gt; we listen to a lot in the car, looked her sister in the eye, and said "No one can take me away from you, Lilly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost had to explain the idea of crying when you're happy to them. And then they were off and running, so I got to cry a few happy tears in private.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-8254674756402051963?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/8254674756402051963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=8254674756402051963' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8254674756402051963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8254674756402051963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/anyone-into-swinging.html' title='Anyone into swinging?'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDIvCIhUd4I/AAAAAAAACTI/jt_p8Tvzlxg/s72-c/may_19_swings+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5378489431007700133</id><published>2008-05-17T10:59:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T11:14:52.622-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><title type='text'>Mother's Day Redux</title><content type='html'>Since last Sunday was not quite to my liking (to understate the facts) Ryan offered me a do-over today. I got to sort-of sleep in (well, I got to go back to sleep after being awakened at 5 and 7 by my children) and I'm going to go out for a pedicure, some shopping, and who knows what else for the afternoon. I'm very excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't often get to do this on the weekends, because we're always trying to have family time. But if I don't get some me time, the family time just isn't going to be very fun. I do sometimes get out alone when the girls are at my parents, but it's never enough time, it often involves some frustrating logistics (dropping them off, picking them up, or generally trying to figure out how to get them a nap since they won't sleep at Grandma and Pop-pop's house). It's so nice to be able to just leave them at my own house, with their own father, and let him deal with the logistics for an afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In other news, I am almost excited for the weekend to end, because on Monday, &lt;a href="http://www.woodkingdom.com/"&gt;Wood Kingdom &lt;/a&gt;is delivering a (not-wood) swingset for the girls! I can hardly wait. We were looking at a small Step2 set, but then Grandma stepped in and upgraded us to the big honkin' Naturally Playful Adventure Lodge with Glider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 415px; HEIGHT: 253px" height="275" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procserv/47b8db36b3127ccea8c3dd3a423e00000016109Qct2rVqyk" width="431" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is fantastic news. We do not have fences around our yard, and our next-door neighbor Emma (who is in first grade) has a big wooden swingset and a playhouse that the girls love. But they don't understand that they can only play on it when Emma is home, and that leads to a lot of conflict and chasing when we are outside, as you might imagine. I think this set will more than satisfy their swingy, climby, slidey, playhousey desires. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5378489431007700133?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5378489431007700133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5378489431007700133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5378489431007700133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5378489431007700133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/mothers-day-redux.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day Redux'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5997303452306713870</id><published>2008-05-16T22:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T22:23:07.257-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SC4_aIhUd3I/AAAAAAAACS8/E8Y07g8TdE8/s1600-h/may_16+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SC4_aIhUd3I/AAAAAAAACS8/E8Y07g8TdE8/s320/may_16+044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this place for the first time today and the name really caught my eye. The girls were asleep in the back so I stopped to take a picture. I was even more amused when I noticed the direction on the door. It's like a test before you've even enrolled!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I assume the subjects in question here are canine, but the idea of them being human really tickles me, and seems apropos in light of my last post. &lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5997303452306713870?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5997303452306713870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5997303452306713870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5997303452306713870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5997303452306713870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-saw-this-place-for-first-time-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SC4_aIhUd3I/AAAAAAAACS8/E8Y07g8TdE8/s72-c/may_16+044.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-801365270827034653</id><published>2008-05-11T22:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T23:01:11.355-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grumpy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='husband'/><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day?</title><content type='html'>I guess you can say "I don't need a fancy gift, the card and the thought behind it are what matters most" 'til your blue in the face, but your message may or may not get through to its recipient. Mine sure did not. No card or gifts from my husband or kids. The kids have an excuse - they don't drive and the only money they have is the change they swipe whenever they manage to climb into the front seat of my (parked) car. The husband has no such mitigating factor, ergo, he did not fare so well today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get him to vacuum my car and promise to buy me the &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=11655708"&gt;bracelet&lt;/a&gt; I want. I may get some new running shoes out of the deal, too. Still, I'd have preferred to avoid the conflict and just have had him buy the stupid cards. Or make the stupid cards. He's a freaking visual artist. He could've sent me a jpeg and at least it would have demonstrated some effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. We went to lunch with my parents and the girls had a good time. Here's an underexposed, but still cute shot of me and Lilly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCev7ohUdbI/AAAAAAAACMA/am4mUySpXxg/s1600-h/may_11_mothersday+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCev7ohUdbI/AAAAAAAACMA/am4mUySpXxg/s320/may_11_mothersday+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;Kate looking like she's at a board meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCev74hUdcI/AAAAAAAACMI/RS92piCQb94/s1600-h/may_11_mothersday+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCev74hUdcI/AAAAAAAACMI/RS92piCQb94/s320/may_11_mothersday+044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;Lilly, demonstrating her mastery of the cheezy grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCev74hUddI/AAAAAAAACMQ/rFFT3Gptm9I/s1600-h/may_11_mothersday+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCev74hUddI/AAAAAAAACMQ/rFFT3Gptm9I/s320/may_11_mothersday+014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;The upside is my birthay is in 3 weeks, and he's never been known to screw up 2 in a row.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-801365270827034653?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/801365270827034653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=801365270827034653' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/801365270827034653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/801365270827034653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day?'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCev7ohUdbI/AAAAAAAACMA/am4mUySpXxg/s72-c/may_11_mothersday+019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-4230260246737270617</id><published>2008-05-09T14:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:47:12.578-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='procrastination'/><title type='text'>Rain, Rain, Go Away!</title><content type='html'>It's pouring today, after a solid week of beautiful weather. Oh well. We trudged out to Gymboree this morning and had some lunch afterwards at the wrap place in the same shopping center. Lunch wasn't my idea - I was all set to come home. But we often eat at the wrap place with Daddy, so they just sort of dragged me there and I went along for the ride (and paid).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of ideas, yesterday Lilly woke up and said to me "I have a good idea!" I asked her what her idea was and she said "We go to aquarium, we go to gymboree, we go to pizza place. That a good idea!" I agreed with her that it was a great idea and we would do all of that another day. "Another day" is a big concept here. Anytime we pass a playground or mention something fun, someone pipes up with "I want to go there/do that/see them another day!" I wonder if they really understand that concept or not? There are variations - sometimes it's "...next week," or my personal favorite "...in 2 minutes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now the little angels are sleeping and I am dragging my feet about cleaning up my house. Not my whole house - that is an impossible dream right now. The whole place got even messier than its usual baseline messiness because I've been working a few days a week for a few weeks. But I have a friend coming tomorrow to visit, so I at least have to make the livingroom, dining room, and kitchen (the rooms you can't avoid seeing when you come in) presentable. I'm waiting for the giant iced coffee I just slurped to kick in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also dragging my feet about calling a babysitter. My therapist actually recommended this person, and I have had her number for months. I don't know why I can't manage to pick up the phone and call. I start getting bogged down in the logistics of when I want to ask her to come, what I'll do with the time, whether I would ever be able to let her put the girls down for a nap (would they let her, is the real question) and then I procrastinate calling. It's ludicrous, because having somoene even just a few hours a week would help me get a lot more done and reduce my stress level, making me much more pleasant to be around, I'm sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-4230260246737270617?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/4230260246737270617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=4230260246737270617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/4230260246737270617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/4230260246737270617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/rain-rain-go-away.html' title='Rain, Rain, Go Away!'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-368299953089260196</id><published>2008-05-07T23:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T00:02:15.797-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><title type='text'>ABCDEFun!</title><content type='html'>I meant to post this last night, but didn't have a chance. The girls almost have the alphabet song down pat. Pretty good for just shy of 28 months, I think. They are tremendous camera hams these days - they seem to like to try and steal the spotlight from one another. My favorite part of this one comes at around 2:21, when Lilly goes hopping through the frame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/55A1NuC_Zqs&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/55A1NuC_Zqs&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&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/3402469-368299953089260196?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/368299953089260196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=368299953089260196' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/368299953089260196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/368299953089260196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/abcdefun.html' title='ABCDEFun!'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5365872741005205431</id><published>2008-05-07T14:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T14:59:04.903-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prematurity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knitting'/><title type='text'>The UFO in my closet</title><content type='html'>When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to knit my baby a blanket. When I found out it was twins, two blankets. When I found out I was going to be placed on modified bedrest at 25 weeks as a precaution, I saw my big opportunity. I wanted to make these pretty blankets with their initials on them. They might be from &lt;em&gt;Simple Knits for Cherished Babies &lt;/em&gt;or they might be from another book. If I take the time to look now, I probably won't get to finish this post before the Cherished Toddlers wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my sister-in-law was also pregnant and due the same week as I was, I decided to make 3 blankets. One purple, one pink, one yellow. We decided quite randomly that the purple one would be for Kate, pink for Lilly. Not that we had told anyone the names we were using at that point, so I would have to knit in secret. Pretty simple. I was so excited about the blankets, because I knew my girls could use them for their dolls later on and would always have them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went into the hospital at 27 weeks, the yarn had just arrived--All Seasons Cotton ordered from Colourway in the UK. Once I was off mag sulfate and had no more IVs, I had Ryan bring all the necessary stuff to the hospital, where I knitted as much as I could manage. I can't recall exactly what day I started, but it had to have been at least day 5 or 6, and I ended up giving birth on Day 14.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knitted some in the NICU after they were born, but it was so hard to focus, even on the practice that had brought me so much peace and happiness over the years. The only time I could sit still other than holding my babies was when I was pumping. When I was home and pumping, I spent most of my time online, but when I was at the NICU, I pumped and knitted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it a little more than 2/3 of the way through Kate's blanket, which is rather fitting I suppose, since that's about how far I made it through the pregnancy. Then my little lovies came home, and craziness ensued. We also received about 30 baby blankets as gifts. The little K blanket got stuck in the back of my closet, where it remained until this morning, when it took a trip out onto my back porch for a photo or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCH4sI8cqzI/AAAAAAAACLI/GjB55XRoS68/s1600-h/may_7+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCH4sI8cqzI/AAAAAAAACLI/GjB55XRoS68/s320/may_7+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCH4sY8cq0I/AAAAAAAACLQ/GJPaRYX47S4/s1600-h/may_7+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCH4sY8cq0I/AAAAAAAACLQ/GJPaRYX47S4/s320/may_7+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;So, now I am trying to figure out what to do with it. And with the 8 or 10 (I can't remember) balls of pink I bought as its companion. I don't know if I can bring myself to finish it, but I know I can't bring myself to frog it, either. What's a mommy to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5365872741005205431?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5365872741005205431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5365872741005205431' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5365872741005205431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5365872741005205431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/ufo-in-my-closet.html' title='The UFO in my closet'/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SCH4sI8cqzI/AAAAAAAACLI/GjB55XRoS68/s72-c/may_7+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-1396481466536522184</id><published>2008-05-07T00:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:48:41.743-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My heart is hurting tonight for &lt;a href="http://theanguishedcorn.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ahuva&lt;/a&gt;. And I'm being interrupted and can't type more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-1396481466536522184?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/1396481466536522184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=1396481466536522184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1396481466536522184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/1396481466536522184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-heart-is-hurting-tonight-for-ahuva.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5781970171396103122</id><published>2008-05-05T21:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:48:23.049-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grumpy'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Being Mommy is hard some days. I have children's songs running through my brain and can't get them out. These two statements are related, but not necessarily directly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm too grumpy to post any more. Seeya tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5781970171396103122?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5781970171396103122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5781970171396103122' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5781970171396103122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5781970171396103122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/being-mommy-is-hard-some-days.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-8456134590072697285</id><published>2008-05-03T21:36:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:49:06.942-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prematurity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And the #1 reason you know your two-year-old is sick? She looks at you imploringly at 7:45 p.m. and whines "I just want to go to sleep, Mommy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Lilly. Poor Kate, too, but she's not taking it quite as hard as her sister. It's "just" a cold, but they're also running fevers with it and feeling pretty junky and cranky. Yuk. And I am feeling like a bad Mommy right now because I didn't start Kate on her meds yet - I guess I was in denial that she really had a cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Officially, Kate has a diagnosis of bronchopulmonary dysplasia (BPD, which is used interchangeably with chronic lung disease - CLD - so you can choose your weapon here). This is partly because of her prematurity, and partly because of the time she spent on the ventilator after her birth. On a day-to-day level, this doesn't affect her functioning one bit. But it makes her more vulnerable to breathing problems when she gets sick. So far, she's only had one cold that got her wheezing, back in October, and she had pneumonia over Christmas. But in 2 years, we've only been to the ER once (October) and she hasn't been hospitalized at all - that's pretty damn good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, when she gets a cold I am supposed to start her on either albuterol and Pulmicort via nebulizer, or albuterol and Flovent via aerochamber (an attachment that goes on a regular inhaler to make it effective for little kids). She was just runny all day, not coughing, so I kept putting it off and thinking she was going to be OK. So of course she starting coughing at bedtime, when it was pretty much too late to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess if she gets worse, I can sneak in with the nebulizer, hope it doesn't wake her, and give her a treatment in her sleep. Otherwise I'll just go ahead in the morning, unless she's miraculously cured.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-8456134590072697285?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/8456134590072697285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=8456134590072697285' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8456134590072697285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/8456134590072697285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/and-1-reason-you-know-your-toddler-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-888198956587274345</id><published>2008-05-02T15:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:49:34.850-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grumpy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Nobody ever warned me that I could be more tired at 27 months than I was with two newborns. So I'm warning you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls started getting stuffy/runny noses yesterday (right in the middle of a playdate - great!) and by nighttime they were cranky and definitely having trouble breathing through their noses. This means that if they have a binky in their mouth while they are sleeping, they are going to wake up unable to breathe and cry. Over and over and over and over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a total of 4 wakeups during last night's episode of "Lost." I gave up counting after that, but I know I finally fell asleep for the first time at 1:30, and was back up sometime during the 2, 3, and 4 o'clock hours, ending up with everyone in our bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only moment of levity was at some point when Lilly asked for water, and I couldn't find the sippy cup that I usually keep at my bedside. Somehow she just let it go, and a few minutes later, Ryan rolled over and I heard a "clunk" which was clearly a sippy cup hitting the floor. I said very quietly to myself "Ah, there's that sippy cup" and Lilly (who I thought had gone back to sleep) laughed out loud and said "That funny, mama!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wouldn't be so bad except I am at a freelance gig today, staring at a screen, waiting for client comments to a project so I can actually do some work. It's really really hard to stay awake at this point, and it's tempting to just give up a couple hundred bucks so I can go take a nap while the kids are with my parents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-888198956587274345?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/888198956587274345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=888198956587274345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/888198956587274345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/888198956587274345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/05/nobody-ever-warned-me-that-i-could-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-3139357823011113048</id><published>2008-04-30T12:20:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:50:01.600-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I'm supposed to be working right now. The girls are with Grandma and Pop-pop, and I have a lot to do. But I just got these pics from our aquarium/ice cream day, and I can't resist. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Me and Katie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBieWRw6IeI/AAAAAAAACA4/I9pfbbygCIg/s1600-h/IMG_5335.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195076275734716898" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBieWRw6IeI/AAAAAAAACA4/I9pfbbygCIg/s320/IMG_5335.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Me and Lilly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBif1xw6InI/AAAAAAAACCA/30rEigkNZ78/s1600-h/IMG_5339.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195077916412224114" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBif1xw6InI/AAAAAAAACCA/30rEigkNZ78/s320/IMG_5339.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Four happy kids, about to get messy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBif2Rw6IoI/AAAAAAAACCI/oisdFHpxUPs/s1600-h/IMG_5350.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195077925002158722" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBif2Rw6IoI/AAAAAAAACCI/oisdFHpxUPs/s320/IMG_5350.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Sophie sharing her cone with Lilly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBif2Rw6IpI/AAAAAAAACCQ/xTnpKPgL29s/s1600-h/IMG_5354.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195077925002158738" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBif2Rw6IpI/AAAAAAAACCQ/xTnpKPgL29s/s320/IMG_5354.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Katie sharing a laugh with Sebastian.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBif2hw6IqI/AAAAAAAACCY/NswwWgHGXEs/s1600-h/IMG_5365.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195077929297126050" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBif2hw6IqI/AAAAAAAACCY/NswwWgHGXEs/s320/IMG_5365.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Katie's blissful mess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBigxBw6IsI/AAAAAAAACCo/bvO69QAyCcs/s1600-h/IMG_5362.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195078934319473346" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBigxBw6IsI/AAAAAAAACCo/bvO69QAyCcs/s320/IMG_5362.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&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/3402469-3139357823011113048?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/3139357823011113048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=3139357823011113048' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3139357823011113048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/3139357823011113048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-supposed-to-be-working-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SBieWRw6IeI/AAAAAAAACA4/I9pfbbygCIg/s72-c/IMG_5335.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-6434480967102400702</id><published>2008-04-29T13:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:51:17.081-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Right around the girls' second birthday, they apparently decided to stop liking their cribs. They have never been great nappers or nighttime sleepers, but putting them down for a nap or bedtime was always very easy. Maybe 1 night a month I would try to put them to bed too early and they would cry, but otherwise they'd kiss me, lie down, and go to sleep. I knew I had trouble when that stopped working, and putting them into their cribs became very much like trying to put a cat in a tub of water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a thick tempurpedic mattress pad that used to be on our bed, so we put that on the floor in their room, and they slept on it much more happily than they did in their cribs. About a month ago it was obvious that we weren't going back to the cribs, so we took the plunge. Ryan and I bought a king size bed for ourselves, and gave the girls our queen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are a lot better. The only problem is now they won't go to sleep on their own - I have to be in the room. And I have to lie down between them. And it has to be me. They will pretend to let Daddy put them to bed, but when the lights go out, they scream for Mommymommymommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time I am OK with this. It takes 5-10 minutes for naps, 10-25 minutes for bedtime, usually. Sometimes I find it incredibly frustrating (mostly if they are hyper and can't calm down, so I am in there too long) and I have to work really really hard not to become mean Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, though, the simple act of putting them down for a nap becomes pure bliss. I don't know why, but today everything was perfect. Lilly said she wanted to snuggle, so she rolled onto her belly and flung her arm around my neck. Katie just wanted to lie on her back with her hand on my arm. I could tell Lilly was asleep halfway through the 2nd song on their lullabye CD (a beautiful Celtic compilation, by the way, given to us by Karen and her son Neil William).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned to look at Katie, and her eyes were flickering up and down, and I could see she was looking at the picture on the wall in front of the bed. (It's a picture I drew in elementary school, of a cat, and my Mom gave it to me right before I got pregnant, so now it's framed in their room.) I watched her eyes open and close a few times, and she didn't notice me at all, so I continued to gaze as her eyelids gently closed for real, and she relaxed into sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I lay there for another 5 minutes, sobbing uncontrollably. They are so beautiful, so precious, and I am so lucky to have them healthy and alive and lively as they are. The moments when that realization hits me are some of the most perfect I've ever experienced.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-6434480967102400702?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/6434480967102400702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=6434480967102400702' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6434480967102400702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6434480967102400702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/04/right-around-girls-second-birthday-they.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5445671252094826539</id><published>2008-04-28T22:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:52:19.489-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grumpy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gymboree'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What a Monday. It just felt like a Monday all day long. Emphasis on the "long" part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did a lot of fun stuff this weekend, and the girls didn't get a lot of naps in. Yesterday was the March for Babies (we raised $2080!) in the rain, then the Children's Museum, and they really only slept in the car. So this morning they somehow slept until 9:15 (not straight through, of course - if you know my girls you'll be unsurprised that I was up at least 4x overnight with them, which I will admit is far more than I have been most nights lately). That messed with their circadian rhythm, I guess, because they were tired, but not sleepy during their usual naptime of 1pm-ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up throwing them in the car at 2:15 and they fell asleep in about 10 minutes. I went to the drive-through Starbucks and got a latte, then headed back home because I needed a quick pit stop. I left them sleeping in the car (not running!) inside the garage with the door closed. They woke up in about 10 minutes, for a total of maybe 30 minutes' nap. There was enough time to go to Gymboree play gym at 3pm, so I headed over there. They were all excited, and tragedy struck - darkness in the gym and a sign on the door informing me that play gym is now at 1:45pm. Nooo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I had noticed there was a 4pm class we could attend at a Gymboree a little further away, which just opened. So I psyched them up for that, and my little loves totally went with the flow. The class was really crowded, but they had a good enough time. Did a little shopping afterwards (the gym is in a mall with a bunch of kids' outlet stores) and gave them pizza at the food court. Then we came home, got jammied up, took some cute video of them being silly in their room (I'm too tired now to download and edit), and they were asleep only a little later than normal, by 8:45-9ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I read all that, why did it feel like such a junky day? Cramps, nausea, headache - they really do mess with your whole outlook, don't they?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5445671252094826539?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5445671252094826539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5445671252094826539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5445671252094826539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5445671252094826539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-monday.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-7658503911079651061</id><published>2008-04-24T23:11:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:54:43.248-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlie talk'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't have anything much to say. But I'm trying to get back in the habit of blogging regularly, not just when I buy a house, have some kids, or need donations to a cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took the girls to our local &lt;a href="http://www.atlantismarineworld.com/"&gt;aquarium&lt;/a&gt; today with Leanne and her 2 kids. It was crowded. Very very crowded. I think even the kids (ranging from 18months to 3.5 years, mine in the middle) were bothered by the crowd because all 4 of them spent way more time in the stroller than I have ever seen. Leanne had her sit and stand stroller, I had my double side-by-side, and the kids swapped in and out. After we had a not-very-relaxing lunch al fresco, I suggested we bail and go down the road to a &lt;a href="http://www.snowflakeicecream.com/"&gt;cute little ice cream place&lt;/a&gt;. On the way out the door, I had Sebastian and Kate, and Leanne had Lilly and Sophie in her stroller, so that's how we drove to the ice cream place (with Lilly and Sebastian's consent to the switch). It was so fun to listen to Kate chat with her friend in the back seat on the way there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K: "We going to have ice cream!"&lt;br /&gt;S: "I'm going to have chocolate ice cream."&lt;br /&gt;K: "I going to have chocolate too!"&lt;br /&gt;S: "I am going to have chocolate with chocolate chips."&lt;br /&gt;K: "I going to have chippies, too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*giggling*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have a camera because Ryan brought it into work today, but Leanne got some cute pics of me with the girls, and some nice shots of all 4 of them sitting on a bench, messily eating ice cream. The former are very rare photos these days. I hope I get to see them this decade. It's amazing how few pictures I have of me and my children. Between my husband who would rather play than shoot (understandable, but frustrating) and my friends who shoot but don't know how to download and post, it's rather pathetic! I end up feeling like an idiot, begging people to take pictures of me with my kids, which just doesn't end up feeling natural, ya know?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-7658503911079651061?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/7658503911079651061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=7658503911079651061' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/7658503911079651061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/7658503911079651061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-dont-have-anything-much-to-say.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-6188480338245193176</id><published>2008-03-03T22:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:55:10.999-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prematurity'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>As we did last year (and will every year as long as I am physically able - which I expect will be a long time) my family and some friends are participating in the March of Dimes &lt;a href="http://www.marchforbabies.com/"&gt;March for Babies&lt;/a&gt;. It used to be called WalkAmerica, but they finally changed it to something a little more telegraphic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since giving birth to my girls so premature, there's nothing I want more than to prevent them and anyone else from experiencing the heartache of a premature birth and NICU stay. We are forever indebted to the March of Dimes for funding so much of the research that helped created the NICU which saved our babies' lives. But there is so much more work to be done in preventing premature birth in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to support Team O'Girlie, you can visit &lt;a href="http://www.marchforbabies.org/s_team_page.asp?seid=457510."&gt;our team page&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you need further convincing, watch the video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wr7_QVaPeos"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wr7_QVaPeos" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&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/3402469-6188480338245193176?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/6188480338245193176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=6188480338245193176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6188480338245193176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6188480338245193176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/03/as-we-did-last-year-and-will-every-year.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-6045185953585696060</id><published>2008-02-06T16:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T16:44:59.921-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh crap. When I changed my template, of course I lost all my old comments. Aaaaagh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-6045185953585696060?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/6045185953585696060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=6045185953585696060' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6045185953585696060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/6045185953585696060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/02/oh-crap.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-5733163024772496284</id><published>2008-02-06T15:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T15:12:23.415-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And she's back. Just like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've toyed for months with the idea of blogging again. But I couldn't decide how to go about it. I didn't really want to start a new blog, and abandon everything here, even though this was primarily (and certainly by title) a blog about knitting, something I haven't touched in nearly 2 years. But I felt funny coming back here after so much time. I have even had the passing anxiety about who's going to find this blog now. I use this screenname on a few message boards, and as always happens, there are a few people there who don't like me. Do I really want them finding me here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still don't know the "right" answer to any of the above, but I decided what the hell, I'll just start posting again. I need the outlet, and maybe this will help reconnect me to the person I was before I became a mother. Anything that furthers that goal is probably a good idea at this point. I'm actually at a freelance job in the city right now, which seems a fitting place to start bloggign again, because it was on a slow day at another freelance job that I started this whole thing in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what I am going to talk about here. Twins. Motherhood. Writing. Photography (a recently-rekindled interest). PTSD. All of these are part of my life, in varying degrees and not necessarily in order. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The easiest thing to talk about is Twins. My girls are doing wonderfully. We celebrated their 2nd birthday a few weeks ago, and they could not be more amazing. They had their follow-up appointment at the high-risk infant clinic (all the NICU grads go there until at least age 3) last week, and to say they did well is a major understatement. Their verbal skills are generally at the 3-year level, and above. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why it would surprise me that my girls are highly verbal at such an early age (other than the fact that twins and premature babies commonly have language delays.) I was an early talker and reader, as was my brother. And I talk to them all the livelong day. But still, I did not expect to have 2-year-olds who can count as high as 12, know most of their colors and shapes, talk in 5-6 word sentences, and say "please" and "thank you" at least 50% of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say I am blown away barely scratches the surface. We are extremely fortunate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-5733163024772496284?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/5733163024772496284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=5733163024772496284' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5733163024772496284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/5733163024772496284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2008/02/and-shes-back.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-115875599021989047</id><published>2006-09-20T08:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T00:14:16.584-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow! People still sometimes read my blog! I'm utterly stunned. And thrilled! I've missed blogging, though I've filled the void with multiple pregnancy-and-mommy-oriented message boards. I kept saying I'd start a baby blog, but I never got to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The back story on Lilly and Kate is that I found out I was pregnant July 15th last year. It had been taking a while, so we had been seeing a fertility specialist, and were just starting to talk about taking Clomid. I was terrified of doing that and having multiples. Then I got pregnant on my own and was so relieved. Then at 7 weeks 4 days into my pregnancy, this is what we saw on the ultrasound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDJP1ohUd8I/AAAAAAAACTo/UzvcOQIxtfQ/s1600-h/ultrasound2-anon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDJP1ohUd8I/AAAAAAAACTo/UzvcOQIxtfQ/s320/ultrasound2-anon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:NONE'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was completely petrified, and Ryan turned to me and said "This is going to be great!" and said it with such enthusiasm that I had to believe him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had all-day-and-particularly-evening sickness until about 15 weeks. I got big fast. At 19 weeks we took a trip out to Hawaii to see Ryan's sister and her husband, who happened to get pregnant the same time we did. Her due date (3/23) was 4 days before mine. We had a great trip! It seems a million years ago, now. Here's me in all my pregnant glory on the beach at Hanauma Bay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/107/69/1600/beach_preg.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/107/69/1600/beach_preg.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/107/69/1600/beach_preg.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/107/69/320/beach_preg.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 24 weeks, a few weeks before Christmas, my doctor had me stop working and go on modified bedrest as a precautionary measure. Preterm labor is very common with twins, so he was doing everything he could to prevent it. The day after Christmas I realized I was having contractions. They were regular for a while, but then they stopped, so my doctor told me to come in the next day. I felt great that day. So good I let Ryan stay at home because he was working on a deadline. Up until that point he had been at every appointment with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to the doctor, I felt fine for woman carrying 27-week twins. I had one contraction when I stood up in his office, but I wasn't worried. He did a fetal fibronectin test and internal exam, my cervix is closed. Then he does the transvaginal sonogram and my previously "long and closed" 3.5 cm cervix is down to 1.3 cm. Do not pass go, do not pick up husband, go staight to Labor &amp;amp; Delivery, he will call ahead and be there later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They admitted me and put me on terbutaline, and put all the monitors on - 1 for contractions, 1 baby a, 1 for baby b. I was covered in monitors. I got 3 doses of injected terb, followed by oral every 4 hours. I started breaking through with contractions before 4 hours was up, so they went to 3 hours. That seemed to work. Kept the monitors on all night, etc. Nothing exciting recorded. Next day they sent me down for a sono with the maternal-fetal-medicine specialist, and although the babies looked awesome (2 lb 9 and 2 lbs 13 were the estimates) I was now 70% effaced, fingertip-1cm dilated. Within an hour I was in an ambulance, lights and sirens, on my way to North Shore University Hospital, because they have a better NICU in case my babies were going to be born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, they went through all the drugs. Indocin and terbutaline at first didn't do it. Magnesium sulfate stopped everything for several days, but is toxic enough that they took me off that and tried a terbutaline pump. That made my heart rate way too fast, so they had to take me off. Then I went on nifedipine, which lowered my blood pressure like crazy, but it stayed just high enough to be safe. It wasn't as effective though. After 2 weeks, everything failed and at 2:30 in the morning (Tuesday morning), I woke up out of a sound sleep. I felt kind of funny "down there" and thought maybe my water had broken so I called the nurse immediately. It turned out I was bleeding, and I totally freaked out thinking I had a placental abruption or something, but she said that would be really painful and this as not. I had to try really hard not to panic. She called for the resident to come in, and in the meantime tried to keep me calm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The resident came in, checked my cervix and said I was now at 3cm (before I was 1-2) and that the blood was probably bloody show. I called Ryan and told him to get up and get here, because it looked like we'd hit our expiration date. They took me down to labor and delivery again, put all the monitors on, and I was contracting every 1-2 minutes. Some of them I felt really strongly (and painfully) and some I didn't even notice. In came the bag of magnesium sulfate, which I didn't try to fight because I knew it was my only hope of not having babies that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mag slowed down the contractions considerably. They got as far as 20 minutes apart, though each one was quite painful. Around 11 they brought me down to maternal-fetal medicine and the doctor who usually does my Level IIs did a biophysical profile. He was very concerned when he saw how low Baby A (who became Lilly) was and asked when I had last had my cervix checked. I told him 3am and he said OK, he was going to call up and make sure someone checked my cervix when I got back to L&amp;amp;D. While we were waiting for the perinatalogist, I told Ryan I thought this was it. He was still in denial. At some point he was like "Yeah, I'm so tired...I'll probably go home in a little while when they bring you back to your room." I somehow knew that wouldn't happen. The contractions started coming closer together and were really really painful - enough that I couldn't really talk through them anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched the doctor's face while she checked my cervix, and I saw her eyes get big. I was 6 cm, 100% effaced, and Baby A's membranes were bulging. That was it, she told us there was no way to stop it at this point, so we would stop the magnesium and have babies today. She reminded us how we had gotten two more weeks out of them and told me she highly recommended an epidural because both twins were head down and they were going to let me try vaginally (very important to me and that made me feel a lot better), but if I needed a c-section, having the epi on board already would save valuable time. I was all for it, and I could not believe the change in my personality outlook after I got the epi. I suddenly realized I had been in some level of pain for a looooong time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that point, we called my parents, and invited them to come sit with us and wait for my water to break. They were allowed to hang in the delivery room until that point. Once we had time to get over the initial shock and fear, we started to get excited to meet our girls and to have the PTL ordeal over with, even knowing that this early birth had so many dangers. My parents were really great and supportive, and it was surprisingly nice to have them there. I was super-sleepy and drifted off a few times while they all chattered, which was fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostly we sat and watched the monitor to see how close the contractions were. They got to 3 minutes and incredibly regular, and the doc sent my parents out so she could check me. 10 cm, ready to rumble. Mom and Dad came in to kiss me good luck, and suddenly the medical parade began! Our quiet little room was invaded by neonatalogists, neonatal nurses, anesthesiologists, pediatricians oh my! I think there were a dozen of those people, plus the attending perinatalogist, my L&amp;amp;D nurse, and the two resident physicians who did most of the work.&lt;br /&gt;They broke the first bag of water, which felt kind of cool - like a little internal "poink." The contractions started coming closer together, and it was time to push. They told me to push like I was constipated. LOL! With each contraction, they had me push 3 times. They were awesome, because they didn't count or anything - they just said OK...PUSH! and told me what a great job I was doing. I think we repeated that over 5-6 contractions, and then I got to see my Lillian's head emerging below - what an incredible feeling. They took her and cleaned her up, and let me hold her for the most amazing 15 or so seconds of my life. She was beautiful, with the sweetest little lips I had ever seen. I fell in love with her instantly, and it was heartbreaking to have to give her up. But, we had more business to attend to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was falling in love, the doctors were locating Kate. Unfortunately, she must've seen her sister going down that narrow passagway and decided she wanted none of that. She didn't actually flip, but even more dastardly, she folded herself in half so that her head, hands, and feet were all right in the same spot. There was nothing to be done but a c-section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They wheeled me next door to the OR, and pumped up my epidural. The section was a piece of cake. I didn't get to hold Kate, because one arm was in restraints, but Ryan did for about as long as I held Lillian. I got to look at her sweet little face, and fell for her just as I had her sister. She is beautiful. I was so exhausted after that I nearly fell asleep while they closed me back up! Spent about an hour in recovery, and they brought me up to my room. They left the epidural in and gave me a PCA pump, which was very helpful. I couldn't sit in a wheelchair that night, so I couldn't go the NICU, which was awful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan and my parents went to see the girls, and I was stuck just lying in bed with the phone and TV for distractions. That was the hardest part. Knowing that for 7 months I was everything to these babies, but now I couldn't even get out of bed to see then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having them in the NICU was amazing motivation to get moving and I had to force myself to recover more quickly than I thought was humanly possible. Lillian stayed 63 days in the NICU, coming home March 13, and Kate came home 2 days later. Kate came home with a nasal cannula and oxygen, which she finally ditched for good in late May.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd never know to look at them now how difficult their start was. They are both around 16 pounds and chubby chubby chubby! When we go out, people ask how old they are and when I give their actual age (as opposed to their adjusted age, which is how old they'd be if they were born on their due date) no one even bats an eye. I am incredibly grateful to everyone in the High Risk Antepartum Unit and the NICU at &lt;a href="http://www.northshorelij.com/body.cfm?id=51"&gt;North Shore University Hospital&lt;/a&gt;. Without them, my life would be a well-rested tragedy, instead of the exhausting joy it is today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-115875599021989047?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/115875599021989047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=115875599021989047' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/115875599021989047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/115875599021989047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2006/09/wow-people-still-sometimes-read-my-blog.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDJP1ohUd8I/AAAAAAAACTo/UzvcOQIxtfQ/s72-c/ultrasound2-anon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-115367271791205958</id><published>2006-07-23T12:34:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T00:17:44.102-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can't believe I am going to be this lame. I'm sure no one reads my blog anymore. I haven't posted in well over a year. I have a good reason. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDJQoIhUd9I/AAAAAAAACTw/QgZI2ltc09E/s1600-h/4th_weekend%2520045.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDJQoIhUd9I/AAAAAAAACTw/QgZI2ltc09E/s320/4th_weekend%2520045.jpg' border=0 alt='' id='BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_' &gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:NONE'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, they're mine. I got pregnant last July. We'd been trying for a while and all of a sudden we were pregnant with twins. Very unexpected! We'd been just about to talk fertility treatments when apparently my fertility kicked into highest gear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were due March 27th, 2006. I went into preterm labor December 27th and ended up in the hospital for 2 weeks on every medication they have to stop labor. On January 10th it all stopped working and my beautiful girls were born 11 weeks early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lillian Claire (on the right) was 3 pounds, Kate Darcy was 2 pounds 13 ounces. Lilly stayed 63 days in the NICU and Kate stayed 65. They've been home 4 months and I am just starting to come back to reality a little bit. ;-) They are the most precious, wonderful, exhausting, beautiful, exciting, inspirational little people I've ever known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to run now, but I'll post more soon and tell more of their story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-115367271791205958?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/115367271791205958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=115367271791205958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/115367271791205958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/115367271791205958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-cant-believe-i-am-going-to-be-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/SDJQoIhUd9I/AAAAAAAACTw/QgZI2ltc09E/s72-c/4th_weekend%2520045.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-110919642701584672</id><published>2005-02-23T16:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-23T17:08:12.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow! A closing date! Tuesday, March first, at 1pm. I am so excited it's finally going to happen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also amused because I remember this &lt;a href="http://www.varbusiness.com/sections/news/breakingnews.jhtml?articleId=18814404"&gt;MarchFirst&lt;/a&gt; and how we all made fun of the name when I worked at &lt;a href="http://www.varbusiness.com/sections/news/breakingnews.jhtml?articleId=18821100"&gt;Scient&lt;/a&gt;. Both companies are now defunct, with MarchFirst barely squeezing out a year of business with that stupid-ass name. Ah, the good ole' days. Perhaps we'll build a memorial to that era in our new home. &lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-110919642701584672?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/110919642701584672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=110919642701584672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110919642701584672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110919642701584672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2005/02/wow-closing-date-tuesday-march-first-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-110882704986516495</id><published>2005-02-19T10:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-19T10:30:49.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yeah, well, my prediction was totally wrong. Valentine's Day came and went without even setting a closing date. I'm so frustrated and totally tired of this. Every few days we get a new hopeful story, and then it goes to shit. We have scheduled our walk-through for tomorrow, thinking we'll close this coming week, but who knows if that's even possible? At least we'll get to see the place again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started my new job 2 weeks ago, and I like it. It's weird being the new girl, and weirder because I am new yet old, due to my freelance work there 3 years ago. I'm getting settled, getting busy, and happy with my decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to knit. Most of the yarn and all the books are packed up. Grrr.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-110882704986516495?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/110882704986516495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=110882704986516495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110882704986516495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110882704986516495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2005/02/yeah-well-my-prediction-was-totally.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-110730421082857106</id><published>2005-02-01T19:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-01T19:30:51.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, still no closing date on our house. Our sellers' deal was held up by their sellers' deal, and so on and so on. It's like LaGuardia airport on a Friday afternoon in July. Ugh. They are still holding out hope for next week, but the following week is more likely. My prediction: we will close on Valentine's Day. Just a guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'm starting a new job on Monday! It's weird. When I moved to Brookyln, I started my current job, and now that I am moving out, I am starting a new one. I'm going back to doing consumer-targeted interactive advertising - websites, web ads, etc. I will be working for the agency I was freelancing at when I first discovered knitting blogs! I'm excited about it, and about getting out of the world of direct-to-professional pharmaceutical advertising. I'll still be doing a good deal of pharma work, but it'll be aimed at you, the consumer, not your doctor. I'll also get to do some other non-pharma work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new agency is owned by the same big holding company that owns my current agency, so I get to keep all my benefits and seniority, which is awesome. Top that off with a 14% raise, and it's a no-brainer, isn't it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'll be tough to leave my current agency, as I've been there over 2 years (a long time for me) and have made a lot of good friends there. But I know I am making the right decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday, when all this quiets down, maybe I'll oh, I don't know -- &lt;strong&gt;knit&lt;/strong&gt; something?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-110730421082857106?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/110730421082857106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=110730421082857106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110730421082857106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110730421082857106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2005/02/well-still-no-closing-date-on-our-house.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-110694250172891475</id><published>2005-01-28T15:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-28T15:03:08.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh my goodness. I love this woman. &lt;a href="http://www.thebagblog.com"&gt;The Bag Blog&lt;/a&gt;, indeed! And apparently, she knits, too! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-110694250172891475?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/110694250172891475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=110694250172891475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110694250172891475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110694250172891475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2005/01/oh-my-goodness.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-110506554527912435</id><published>2005-01-06T21:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-06T21:39:05.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Could I be any lamer? Probably not. I've been wanting to post for weeks, but just been too lazy or overwhelmed or whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, what's happened since November? Um, not much knitting, sad to say. But that will change soon. Why? Because I'm about to get some train-knitting time in my life. Every day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We bought a house! Or, we're buying a house. We're in contract and supposed to close the first week of February. Ho-lee-shit, right?! It's in western Suffolk county on Long Island, about 15-20 minutes' drive from my parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://home.nyc.rr.com/bedelstein/photos/blog/housie.html"&gt;Wanna see it&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now we're looking at furniture, paint, and all sorts of good stuff. It's overwhelming and exciting! I'll try not to be such a sucky blogger in the coming days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-110506554527912435?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/110506554527912435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=110506554527912435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110506554527912435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110506554527912435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2005/01/could-i-be-any-lamer-probably-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-110048793375136100</id><published>2004-11-14T22:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-14T22:05:33.753-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I finished the lacy poncho and got to wear it to the wedding in Philly last weekend! Been running around too much to actually blog about it until now. I got Ryan to take a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procserv/47b4cf31b3127cceaa3a6e7215a00000001610"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might've been better to take a picture when I was wearing something solid-colored underneath, but you get what you get!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-110048793375136100?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/110048793375136100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=110048793375136100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110048793375136100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/110048793375136100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/11/well-i-finished-lacy-poncho-and-got-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109953331674152488</id><published>2004-11-03T20:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T20:55:16.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, looks like it's time to throw myself into work, knitting, and whatever else. Anything to stop thinking about politics. I hope the days ahead aren't as dark as I fear them to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109953331674152488?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109953331674152488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109953331674152488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109953331674152488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109953331674152488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/11/well-looks-like-its-time-to-throw.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109943661587920636</id><published>2004-11-02T18:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T18:03:35.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I hope you went and voted today, whatever side you're on! John Kerry got my vote, and Ryan's, too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Luckily,"  I am too busy to think a lot about the election. Work is crazy and I am reduced to sitting at my desk and trying not to hyperventilate for a lot of the day. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished my beautiful lacy poncho and will try and take a picture when I get home tonight. It looks fabulous with my pink corduroys. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109943661587920636?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109943661587920636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109943661587920636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109943661587920636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109943661587920636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-hope-you-went-and-voted-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109922687578494997</id><published>2004-10-31T07:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-31T07:47:55.783-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday was so wonderful - I didn't have to be anywhere for the first time in over a month! And it was a cruddy day so neither of us minded staying in most of the day. Thus, I finished the second side of lacy poncho! I wet-blocked at about midnight, so by the time I get home from North Carolina tomorrow (4pm!), I should be able to sew it up, pick up the neck stitches, and wear it on Tuesday! I am very excited!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109922687578494997?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109922687578494997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109922687578494997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109922687578494997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109922687578494997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/10/yesterday-was-so-wonderful-i-didnt-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109892183109893801</id><published>2004-10-27T19:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-27T20:03:51.100-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm about halfway through with the re-knitting of side 2 of the lacy poncho. It looks much better so far. I suppose I could've tried blocking the othe side to fit the large side, as Kathy suggested, but I think it wouldn't have looked so good. The gauge was so loose that the lace didn't look as nice as when it was tighter. So, live, learn, frog and re-knit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is keeping me busy and nearly at the end of my sanity. I've also been traveling too much, and it's not ending for another 2 weeks. In the past month and a half, I have been to Dallas and Chicago for work, Missouri for fun, Atlanta for work, Baltimore for work, and Ann Arbor for fun. Now I have to go to North Carolina for work on Monday morning, so I will fly in Sunday night and have dinner with a friend there, then it's Philly for a wedding the following weekend. The scary part is I was hoping that'd be it until Christmas (we're going to Miami to see Ryan's father and his sister and her husband this year) but I recently got a  new client at work and may have to travel for &lt;strong&gt;them&lt;/strong&gt; sometime between 11/15 and Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help meeee!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109892183109893801?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109892183109893801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109892183109893801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109892183109893801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109892183109893801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/10/im-about-halfway-through-with-re.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109799040081134130</id><published>2004-10-17T01:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-17T01:20:00.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Shit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished the second side of the lacy poncho, and apparently my gauge loosened up considerably doing this side. It's a good 2" bigger all around. Of course, I didn't realize this until after I wove in the ends and laid it out to block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I have to wait for it to dry, frog the sucker and redo it. Grrrrr. Could this BE more annoying? I wanted to wear it next weekend in Michigan. The only glimmer of hope is that I have about 4.5 hours of Amtrak time on Tuesday, going to and from Baltimore. But this really really sucks. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109799040081134130?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109799040081134130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109799040081134130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109799040081134130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109799040081134130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/10/shit.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109768247798805764</id><published>2004-10-13T11:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-13T11:47:57.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't really have time to post, but I will dash this off anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just got back from a lovely family reunion in Missouri. This is Ryan's Mom's side of the family, and I adore them. We ate, played with the kids, fielded all sorts of questions about life, and generally had a wonderful time. It was too short!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Missouri I went on to Atlanta, where I had kind of a torturous day of market research. It didn't go very well and now I am home and revising revising revising stuff. It'll probably mean late nights the next few days, and a severe stress level. It sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to repeat 20 of the second half of my poncho on one of my flights this weekend and ran out of yarn. Now, I have used four balls to this point, which leads me to think I used five on the first side, which would mean I have one ball left (I bought ten). Somewhere. Urgh. I don't know for sure, and I don't have time to search for it, either. I would know for sure if I had used five if I had only not been so efficient and woven in the ends already! I think I might actually need two more balls to finish the side and then do the neck. I may just suck it up and order more, since I don't see myself having time to go to Knit-A-Way this week. I wonder how much the dye lot matters in an open-work garment knitted in cream-colored yarn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regarding the house, we didn't do it. Long story short, it appears to be the most expensive house in the neighborhood, with the highest taxes. Not a great investment. It broke my heart. And now we're too fucking busy to look again this month, so it's on the back burner at the moment, right next to my sanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109768247798805764?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109768247798805764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109768247798805764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109768247798805764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109768247798805764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-dont-really-have-time-to-post-but-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109663552980295222</id><published>2004-10-01T08:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-01T08:59:09.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Look! Half a poncho!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://home.nyc.rr.com/bedelstein/photos/blog/blocking_big.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.nyc.rr.com/bedelstein/photos/blog/blocking_sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably should've laid it out on a solid-colored towel to block, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109663552980295222?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109663552980295222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109663552980295222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109663552980295222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109663552980295222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/10/look-half-poncho-i-probably-shouldve.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109648188264462666</id><published>2004-09-29T14:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-29T14:18:02.643-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm now up to repeat 20 or 21 of the lacy poncho. It's so pretty! I wish I had more time to sit around and work on it. If only the subway weren't so damn crowded, I could get 20 minutes in each way during my commute, but it's so rare that I get a seat the whole way, and it's kind of a big piece to work on. I'm traveling again the week after next, though, which should get me some solid knitting time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, we're trying to buy a house. Our agent is presenting our bid tonight and I am VERY nervous! It is a really cute place, and in a good location. I'm afraid to say much more so just cross your fingers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109648188264462666?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109648188264462666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109648188264462666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109648188264462666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109648188264462666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/09/im-now-up-to-repeat-20-or-21-of-lacy.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109620625698398773</id><published>2004-09-26T09:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-26T09:44:16.983-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I bet you think I've just been sitting around doing nothing for the past two weeks. Wrong! I'm up to repeat 14 on my &lt;a href="http://www.chicknits.com/lacyponcho.html"&gt;lacy poncho&lt;/a&gt;! I decided I had to make it, and had to make it unimaginatively in the same color as Bonne Marie's. It's just the most versatile shade, and I think I will want to wear this a lot. I'm using some Dale &lt;a href="http://www.yarnforward.com/falk.html"&gt;Falk&lt;/a&gt; yarn and it's very nice. I think I paid too much for it at Knit-A-Way (formerly Knitting Hands) in Brooklyn, but I wanted it right then and there and that was all they had. I rarely let that happen to me, but this time I just let it go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's the first chunk of poncho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.nyc.rr.com/bedelstein/photos/blog/poncho1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very happy with it, and I know it'll look really nice once it's blocked. I have a wedding in Michigan 4 weeks from now, and I would like to wear this over the &lt;a href="http://www.bananarepublic.com/browse/product/253/product_253634.htm?cs_catalog=BR%5FFall1%5F2004&amp;cs_category=2019&amp;Display=2"&gt;cute dress&lt;/a&gt; I got at Banana Republic last weekend. I wore it to a wedding last Sunday out at the beach, and froze with just a light pashmina. Oh, and I promise I didn't wear it with boots like the model, though it probably would've been nice and toasty and made my feet hurt less than the 3" heels I did wear! That's another item on my list - new black satin dressy shoes. I am finally admitting I can't wear the fuck-me heels anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109620625698398773?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109620625698398773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109620625698398773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109620625698398773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109620625698398773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-bet-you-think-ive-just-been-sitting.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109491379354863684</id><published>2004-09-11T10:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-11T10:43:13.546-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I often remark to myself that I will feel like the world is a better place when I can realize that I have gone a full day without being reminded of what happened here on September 11th, 2001. It seems there is always something that reminds me. Sometimes it is driving on the Brooklyn Queens Expressway and looking at the (still stunning, but now also sad) lower Manhattan skyline. Sometimes it's seeing a plane fly low overhead and realizing that I never used to think that was an ominous sound. Sometimes it's seeing a guy on the street who reminds me of one of the group of high school friends who died that day. It's always something. Obviously, today is a day when one not only cannot help to remember, but one must remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember, too, September 10th. I was deeply depressed. I had been unemployed and occasionally freelancing since February, and a project I had expected to last longer had just ended. I was sad because I felt my boyfriend was never going to be ready to marry me. I went to the beach with my Mom and cried about all of this. And on the way home, I remember it was such a clear day that we could see the skyline and the WTC very clearly in the distance (about 35 miles away) when we crossed over the bridges on the Wantagh Parkway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, my whole world changed. I woke up on a beautiful cloudless day with nowhere to go. Ryan was sleeping next to me, and I didn't turn on the TV as I usually did, because I was enjoying the peace and quiet. It was my best friend's mother calling from Albany to see if I was home and OK who informed me of what was going on. I was barely 2 miles uptown and didn't hear a thing until then. After that we turned on the TV, and all my personal troubles were forgotten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years later I'm married to the guy who would never commit, steadily employed and even in-demand from other companies. Life is good. But I still can't go a day without at least some brief moment of thinking about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May all who were lost rest in peace, and may all who feel lost now find their way home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109491379354863684?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109491379354863684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109491379354863684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109491379354863684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109491379354863684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-often-remark-to-myself-that-i-will.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109370067230581772</id><published>2004-08-28T09:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-28T09:49:30.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I got to go to &lt;a href="http://www.schoolproducts.com"&gt;School Products&lt;/a&gt; yesterday during lunch! It's so close to my office, but I don't often get the chance to get there, and to have company. My friend Virg is re-learning to knit this weekend and she wanted to get some supplies. I love this store. They have such a great variety of yummy yarns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was debating what I wanted to make, when I came upon the big wall of Brown Sheep and remembered my dear departed hat. Did I mention my hat? It was pink and purple stripes and I made it two years ago and loved it. Then I lost it, probably back in February when we went to Baltimore. I was heartbroken, as it was a silly, cute hat that always got me compliments. You can see a little of it in this picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.nyc.rr.com/bedelstein/photos/blog/hat_sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost bought some new Brown Sheep to re-make the hat, and then was struck by an even more brilliant idea when I saw a similar shade of pink in Karabella Aurora 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.handworksgallery.com/aurora24.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Aurora 8 is so darn soft - 100% merino, and like buttah. I petted it for a bit, then found a fortuitious shade of purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.handworksgallery.com/aurora3.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The decision was made - I will have a new pink and purple striped hat, and it will be soft and yummy and it won't itch my forehead one single bit. Don't you love happy endings?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109370067230581772?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109370067230581772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109370067230581772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109370067230581772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109370067230581772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/08/i-got-to-go-to-school-products.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109327485162047405</id><published>2004-08-23T11:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-23T11:27:31.620-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I love when my husband comments on my blog, ya know that? I love him in general, but I love him extra when I know he takes time out of the day to see what I'm saying here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much to say. There's a whole load of job stuff going on, but I am not going to jinx it or risk anyone here seeing the scoop until it's all sorted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just got back from spending the weekend upstate with my friend Lisa and her family. We saw them two weeks ago and their son Alex wasn't walking or talking much (he's 15 months). Now two weeks later, he is walking like a pro(fessional toddler) and says stuff like "mama" and "cracker" and "ball" and "hi," though you can't count on him to say it at any given time. He's so cute and so much fun, and I wish we could see them all more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not doing much knitting lately, because other stuff is in the way. I would like to make lots of stuff, but my attention span is very minimal right now. I think when the job is sorted out, I will be more productive that way. As much as I would like to deny it, autumn is coming whether I want it to or not, and it would be nice to have some pretty new things for me to wear, as well as stuff for all those babies that keep popping out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109327485162047405?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109327485162047405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109327485162047405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109327485162047405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109327485162047405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/08/i-love-when-my-husband-comments-on-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109219082356108883</id><published>2004-08-10T22:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T22:22:43.043-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm in love with Sebastian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.nyc.rr.com/bedelstein/photos/blog/kissing_sebastian.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the whole day with him and Leanne, and now I miss him so much. They live 53 miles away, and that never seemed far until now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109219082356108883?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109219082356108883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109219082356108883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109219082356108883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109219082356108883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/08/im-in-love-with-sebastian.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109162260173304171</id><published>2004-08-04T08:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T08:31:59.123-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had a lousy day yesterday, so my friend Amie sent something to cheer me up. I met Amie online when we were planning our weddings, and we've stayed friends, along with a small bunch of other girls who created an MSN Group so we could stay in touch. Amie had a baby a few months ago, so I knitted her a little strawberry cap. How cute is this little munchkin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://home.nyc.rr.com/bedelstein/photos/blog/anika_strawberry_sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She definitely cheered me up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No pictures of Leanne's new cutie, but I'm going there on Tuesday to spend the day and take too many pictures. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109162260173304171?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109162260173304171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109162260173304171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109162260173304171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109162260173304171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/08/i-had-lousy-day-yesterday-so-my-friend.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3402469.post-109128154691515894</id><published>2004-07-31T09:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-31T09:46:31.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's a boy!! Sebastian Peter was born around 3pm on Friday, July 30th. Ryan and I took the long drive to the hospital and got there just as visiting hours ended, but they let us stay for about 20 minutes anyway. This hospital is seriously security-minded and won't let the babies out of the nursery until visiting hours are over, which I find extremely frustrating, but I guess they gotta do what they gotta do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to see Sebastian getting a very very messy diaper changed, so we actually saw more of the butt end than the face end. But the little bit of face we did get to see was adorable! He's a cute little thing, for sure. Eight pounds, 6 ounces, 21 inches long. So he's big, but he wasn't the giant bruiser they were predicting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad are doing fine. Mom's drugged up from the c-section but was in great spirits and was a great patient, they said. Dad is dancing on air, and as giddy as I've ever seen him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;I want one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3402469-109128154691515894?l=betseeee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/feeds/109128154691515894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3402469&amp;postID=109128154691515894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109128154691515894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3402469/posts/default/109128154691515894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://betseeee.blogspot.com/2004/07/its-boy-sebastian-peter-was-born.html' title=''/><author><name>Betseeee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04306554975923573840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_iW1Q5y-ff5Q/R_LWTk9AfFI/AAAAAAAAB2w/Utq9IxuRTZY/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
