<?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-7897166669271517727</id><updated>2011-10-04T17:23:12.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In the fish bowl</title><subtitle type='html'>Swimming through our life...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>73</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-99194743495398219</id><published>2011-06-02T09:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T09:28:01.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's your nose?</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="440" height="420" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://v7.tinypic.com/player.swf?file=29zaeqr&amp;s=7"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinypic.com/player.php?v=29zaeqr&amp;s=7"&gt;Original Video&lt;/a&gt; - More videos at &lt;a href="http://tinypic.com"&gt;TinyPic&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-99194743495398219?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/99194743495398219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=99194743495398219' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/99194743495398219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/99194743495398219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2011/06/original-video-more-videos-at-tinypic.html' title='Where&apos;s your nose?'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7982207590251239993</id><published>2011-05-04T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T10:35:00.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another incident report...#5678</title><content type='html'>So this week, I decided it was time for me to pick up the weights at the gym again. It will really help me with my running, make me gain muscle and most importantly I miss it. So I lifted weights on Tuesday. I squatted, did push ups, step ups, seated rows, and jackknifes. So Wednesday I was sore. My legs especially. Really sore. I tried to run it out. It helped a little. But I am walking around really stiff legged. Walking up stairs and bending down hurt. &lt;em&gt;At this point you are like "what does this have to do with anything?" Don't worry..I am painting you a picture, people.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are a mom you know what I am about to refer to. If you are not a mom yet...listen, read, learn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you have a toddler, you have 2 options when entering a grocery store. 1) Put them on your hip, run in, get a few things, leave. 2) You put them in a buggy..which takes a ton of time to get them settled. They cry..you redirect...offer food...point out animals..it takes a ton of time..after that 15 minutes is over, you had better be in a for a long trip or else it isn't worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I chose the hip/holding hand option and a basket. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got meat from the deli..done..onto yogurt..."No Aiden, you can't run, hold mommy's hand"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then in as in a classic toddler video we plop down on the floor at the grocery store kicking, screaming, rubbing his back on the floor. 2 options again...let Aiden get Hepatitis B and C from the grocery store floor or pick him up..ok..&lt;br /&gt;pick him up..ouch&lt;br /&gt;drop basket..ouch&lt;br /&gt;purse falls on floor...&lt;br /&gt;get hit...&lt;br /&gt;then a nice man comes over to help me pick up all my items as Aiden pulls my hair so hard it looks like I got a bad face lift. &lt;br /&gt;Screw the yogurt...leave... with my head held high and old ladies giving the side eye. Stiff legged.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go home. I go to the pantry to get out the bread for lunch and knock over a glass jar of salsa all over my foot, and pieces of glass fly everywhere. &lt;br /&gt;"No Aiden, you can't play in the "chards o'glass salsa". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we begin to wail.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pick up what is left of the jar and a toddler pulls and pushes on me to pick him up. I drop the jar for a second time. I let out a loud grunt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden decides mommy needs a time out...and leaves the room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my dear husband when you come home and wonder in your head &lt;em&gt;(because you are so wonderful you would never say it aloud)&lt;/em&gt; why the house looks the way it does..I had 2 options during nap time 1) Take a shower and write this blog post 2) clean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7982207590251239993?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7982207590251239993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7982207590251239993' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7982207590251239993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7982207590251239993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2011/05/another-incident-report5678.html' title='Another incident report...#5678'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-3060032722905733103</id><published>2011-04-01T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T10:18:26.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pennies From Heaven</title><content type='html'>The day before Grandpa's memorial service, Jay took Grandpa's car to get cleaned. He brought it back and I got in the car to drive it and cried. There were so many things that flooded my thoughts when I got into that car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Grandpa only owned Lincoln Town Cars. He even bought the last model year that they made them because it was his last chance to buy a new one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned to drive in one of Grandpa's town cars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those big leather chairs and roomy interior just embody my cuddly Grandpa. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I got out of the car, there was a penny in the driver seat. I saw it as a sign from my Grandpa that he was there with me. That penny now resides in my wallet and most days I check to make sure it is still there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking to Grandma today she told me it that it was really weird, because she kept finding "darn pennies" randomly around the house. And she thinks of my penny story everytime she finds one. She also said that she woke up the other morning with the song "Pennies from Heaven" in her head and couldn't get it out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A long time ago &lt;br /&gt;A million years BC &lt;br /&gt;The best things in life &lt;br /&gt;Were absolutely free. &lt;br /&gt;But no one appreciated &lt;br /&gt;A sky that was always blue. &lt;br /&gt;And no one congratulated &lt;br /&gt;A moon that was always new. &lt;br /&gt;So it was planned that they would vanish now and them &lt;br /&gt;And you must pay before you get them back again. &lt;br /&gt;That's what storms were made for &lt;br /&gt;And you shouldn't be afraid for &lt;br /&gt;Every time it rains it rains &lt;br /&gt;Pennies from heaven. &lt;br /&gt;Don't you know each cloud contains &lt;br /&gt;Pennies from heaven. &lt;br /&gt;You'll find yor fortune falling &lt;br /&gt;All over town. &lt;br /&gt;Be sure that your umbrella is upside down. &lt;br /&gt;Trade them for a package of sunshine and flowers. &lt;br /&gt;If you want the things you love &lt;br /&gt;You must have showers. &lt;br /&gt;So when you hear it thunder &lt;br /&gt;Don't run under a tree. &lt;br /&gt;There'll be pennies from heaven for you and me &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-3060032722905733103?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/3060032722905733103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=3060032722905733103' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3060032722905733103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3060032722905733103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2011/04/pennies-from-heaven.html' title='Pennies From Heaven'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7805108003717310595</id><published>2011-03-23T04:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T04:53:59.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleeping</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PNfw7X9hMx0/TYnfSXPTOLI/AAAAAAAAATQ/B5RlliQ275w/s1600/DSCF1984.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PNfw7X9hMx0/TYnfSXPTOLI/AAAAAAAAATQ/B5RlliQ275w/s400/DSCF1984.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587242319298640050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7805108003717310595?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7805108003717310595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7805108003717310595' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7805108003717310595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7805108003717310595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2011/03/sleeping.html' title='Sleeping'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PNfw7X9hMx0/TYnfSXPTOLI/AAAAAAAAATQ/B5RlliQ275w/s72-c/DSCF1984.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-6285172120579215389</id><published>2011-03-12T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T17:05:19.828-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommy's Shoes</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="440" height="420" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://v7.tinypic.com/player.swf?file=4hchoy&amp;s=7"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinypic.com/player.php?v=4hchoy&amp;s=7"&gt;Original Video&lt;/a&gt; - More videos at &lt;a href="http://tinypic.com"&gt;TinyPic&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-6285172120579215389?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/6285172120579215389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=6285172120579215389' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/6285172120579215389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/6285172120579215389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2011/03/original-video-more-videos-at-tinypic_12.html' title='Mommy&apos;s Shoes'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-8146922678402894093</id><published>2011-02-20T17:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T17:43:37.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My favorite little guy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AxkI5kFT1dk/TWHDDBQZrnI/AAAAAAAAATI/MA0_7VIY6Ds/s1600/IMG_5233.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575952270305635954" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AxkI5kFT1dk/TWHDDBQZrnI/AAAAAAAAATI/MA0_7VIY6Ds/s400/IMG_5233.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;grandma's floors make anything sound good when you throw it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P8nwnDC0Jx8/TWHC0AYN1VI/AAAAAAAAATA/XHqjcE5GCDk/s1600/IMG_5187.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575952012371940690" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P8nwnDC0Jx8/TWHC0AYN1VI/AAAAAAAAATA/XHqjcE5GCDk/s400/IMG_5187.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh oh! I think I am stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aVKia_wIg1w/TWHAx-E3YEI/AAAAAAAAAS4/oZe9qLCFffc/s1600/IMG_5218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575949778370912322" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aVKia_wIg1w/TWHAx-E3YEI/AAAAAAAAAS4/oZe9qLCFffc/s400/IMG_5218.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOOOOOO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BydX8uS2SIg/TWHAxXEVWiI/AAAAAAAAASw/9hQGk_laSzg/s1600/IMG_5203.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/7897166669271517727-8146922678402894093?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/8146922678402894093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=8146922678402894093' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8146922678402894093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8146922678402894093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-favorite-little-guy.html' title='My favorite little guy'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AxkI5kFT1dk/TWHDDBQZrnI/AAAAAAAAATI/MA0_7VIY6Ds/s72-c/IMG_5233.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-3647222936133502329</id><published>2011-01-31T10:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T11:27:25.874-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spilling my guts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TUcGvEUJL0I/AAAAAAAAASk/cue26FbTGnk/s1600/gma%2Band%2Bgpa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 323px; HEIGHT: 209px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568426869948755778" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TUcGvEUJL0I/AAAAAAAAASk/cue26FbTGnk/s400/gma%2Band%2Bgpa.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not writing this post to have you feel sorry for me. Not to get condolences. But to tell you about my thoughts about how it was all meant to be. I am an open person, might as well share this too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 23, 2010 we got a little surprise in the form of a positive pregnancy test. We were excited, but scared, of course. Wondering why in the world God would bless us with this surprise at this moment. My grandparent's health was declining, even to the point of not coming to Christmas. Which if you know my grandma, you know she lives for getting together at Christmas. So it was a big deal that she couldn't come. As Jay and I began to think about our new little surprise, I of course started to think of names. I told Jay that I really wanted to name our future child after my grandparents. Specifically, if it was a boy I wanted to name him after my grandpa. And if it was a girl I wanted to use their last name for her name. Jay loved the idea. So a couple of days before my first doctors appointment, I called my grandparents and told them that I was expecting and that I wanted to name the child after them. This made my grandpa cry. I have never heard him cry before. It was a perfect conversation. I told them while they were both on the phone how much they had meant to me over the years and that I loved them. At the doctor's appointment it was discovered that this pregnancy would be my second miscarriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 days later my grandpa passed away in the middle of the night. In my grief I started to take comfort in memories. Then I thought about our last conversation. Our last perfect conversation. I still don't know why the pregnancy didn't last. But I do know that through this pregnancy, I had an opportunity to let my grandpa know exactly what he meant to me. Had it now been for that, I probably would have continued along with my everyday life, not taking the time to stop and tell someone how much they mean to me. And I am so thankful for that moment. It was all meant to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-3647222936133502329?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/3647222936133502329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=3647222936133502329' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3647222936133502329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3647222936133502329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2011/01/spilling-my-guts.html' title='Spilling my guts'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TUcGvEUJL0I/AAAAAAAAASk/cue26FbTGnk/s72-c/gma%2Band%2Bgpa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2997001285863207206</id><published>2011-01-06T10:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T10:57:16.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYQKjBEvMI/AAAAAAAAASU/6GgImTR3gMg/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B342.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559148563419937986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYQKjBEvMI/AAAAAAAAASU/6GgImTR3gMg/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B342.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYQCxHBCxI/AAAAAAAAASM/6glsGI5A_sI/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B341.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYP4b3XQ3I/AAAAAAAAASE/ZMubf2Mthio/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B368.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559148252262515570" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYP4b3XQ3I/AAAAAAAAASE/ZMubf2Mthio/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B368.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYP4Cn_fiI/AAAAAAAAAR8/V7ZPGtO83pE/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B247.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559148245487156770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYP4Cn_fiI/AAAAAAAAAR8/V7ZPGtO83pE/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B247.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYPfaBfHFI/AAAAAAAAAR0/AUptWcxIEFw/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559147822271372370" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYPfaBfHFI/AAAAAAAAAR0/AUptWcxIEFw/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B236.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYPfBuvGHI/AAAAAAAAARs/xS22r7A_LGk/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559147815750277234" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYPfBuvGHI/AAAAAAAAARs/xS22r7A_LGk/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B166.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYPMg-73PI/AAAAAAAAARc/8cfDmEAvCNg/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B210.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559147497722207474" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYPMg-73PI/AAAAAAAAARc/8cfDmEAvCNg/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B210.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYPMRqeoqI/AAAAAAAAARU/yvROLDB3Ees/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559147493609874082" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYPMRqeoqI/AAAAAAAAARU/yvROLDB3Ees/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B136.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYOmLa-W4I/AAAAAAAAARE/p-ZkfCasT04/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559146839099202434" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYOmLa-W4I/AAAAAAAAARE/p-ZkfCasT04/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B099.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYOl8KwXlI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/f5jdMK_eDLg/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559146835004644946" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYOl8KwXlI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/f5jdMK_eDLg/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B094.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYNIuf6YSI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/4S6E_4ZovvU/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559145233607450914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYNIuf6YSI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/4S6E_4ZovvU/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B065.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYNIh8a0xI/AAAAAAAAAQs/Anz3XirfjKw/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559145230237356818" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYNIh8a0xI/AAAAAAAAAQs/Anz3XirfjKw/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B044.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYMVRpUFiI/AAAAAAAAAQk/Z24ZKXUQ24U/s1600/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559144349688927778" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYMVRpUFiI/AAAAAAAAAQk/Z24ZKXUQ24U/s320/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2997001285863207206?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2997001285863207206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2997001285863207206' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2997001285863207206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2997001285863207206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2011/01/pictures.html' title='Pictures'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TSYQKjBEvMI/AAAAAAAAASU/6GgImTR3gMg/s72-c/Canon-%2Bchristmas%2B2010%2B342.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-5395777068594946749</id><published>2011-01-06T09:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T09:47:40.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cloth...crazy lady!!</title><content type='html'>When I was pregnant I wanted to cloth diaper. At the time, every single daycare I spoke with said "Nope, we only do disposable". Grr...At the time since daycare was the plan, I gave in and decided to go with disposable. Then 36 weeks pregnant...we find out we are moving....38 weeks pregnant...Aiden arrives...Anytime between August 25th and January 2010 became a blurr. I was knee deep in a newborn, adjusting to being a stay at home mom, and using disposables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the time has come where I am going to ditch the disposables and go to cloth! I went to a baby store in downtown Richmond today that sells cloth diapers. I bought 2 and I am going to begin testing this process. Of course I will need many more than 2, but I just want to get a taste of what this is like before I buy a ton of cloth diapers. Not only will it better for the environment, but it will save us money in the long run. I am super excited about this decision and I really hope it works out for us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-5395777068594946749?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/5395777068594946749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=5395777068594946749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5395777068594946749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5395777068594946749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2011/01/clothcrazy-lady.html' title='Cloth...crazy lady!!'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-560921844962334269</id><published>2010-11-29T10:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T10:57:32.701-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Demands</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The kidnappers of the Turkey have started making demands for the safe return of the Turkey. They said that more will come. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Demand #1:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Pops" and "uncle Joe" are to make a video dancing along with Snoopy. The longer the video the better. The kidnappers have also specified that they must "feel" the dance moves in the video. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is all for now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TPP3h7cHAyI/AAAAAAAAAQU/PaqCc0mtJ9w/s1600/holidays%2B2010%2B073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545047728486548258" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TPP3h7cHAyI/AAAAAAAAAQU/PaqCc0mtJ9w/s320/holidays%2B2010%2B073.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7897166669271517727-560921844962334269?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/560921844962334269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=560921844962334269' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/560921844962334269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/560921844962334269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/11/demands.html' title='Demands'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TPP3h7cHAyI/AAAAAAAAAQU/PaqCc0mtJ9w/s72-c/holidays%2B2010%2B073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-9117401312531236647</id><published>2010-11-23T16:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T17:02:35.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aiden got a cold and proceeded to make me sick. I hate it when he feels bad. But, I do get lots of good snuggle time in. Today we made a great sick day memory together. I wanted chocolate, so I washed the strawberries in the frig and melted some chocolate and we sat in the living room and ate. It was one of those moments that I said "I need to remember this forever!" So I took a photo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOxjjbm205I/AAAAAAAAAP8/ItNys9pLPz0/s1600/fall%2B2010%2B017%2B%25282%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542914701743543186" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOxjjbm205I/AAAAAAAAAP8/ItNys9pLPz0/s320/fall%2B2010%2B017%2B%25282%2529.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOxjxQmv1tI/AAAAAAAAAQE/LwxgDJa-s90/s1600/fall%2B2010%2B020%2B%25282%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOxkAi75_rI/AAAAAAAAAQM/eZTh23VnS00/s1600/fall%2B2010%2B021%2B%25282%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542915201927085746" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOxkAi75_rI/AAAAAAAAAQM/eZTh23VnS00/s320/fall%2B2010%2B021%2B%25282%2529.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOxjjbm205I/AAAAAAAAAP8/ItNys9pLPz0/s1600/fall%2B2010%2B017%2B%25282%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-9117401312531236647?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/9117401312531236647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=9117401312531236647' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/9117401312531236647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/9117401312531236647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/11/sick-day.html' title='Sick day'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOxjjbm205I/AAAAAAAAAP8/ItNys9pLPz0/s72-c/fall%2B2010%2B017%2B%25282%2529.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-4334302679561516171</id><published>2010-11-23T14:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T14:53:57.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bubbles</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b3231cb3e93d31e8" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db3231cb3e93d31e8%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5ECC76F0A43E8AB250E202CD662027C8752DFD9.1D144E03ED747CFCE32A5BD0E0BF639548112868%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db3231cb3e93d31e8%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Del7A5oVBM4Bd2skyt5Bui_Vt_RU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db3231cb3e93d31e8%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5ECC76F0A43E8AB250E202CD662027C8752DFD9.1D144E03ED747CFCE32A5BD0E0BF639548112868%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db3231cb3e93d31e8%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Del7A5oVBM4Bd2skyt5Bui_Vt_RU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-4334302679561516171?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/4334302679561516171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=4334302679561516171' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4334302679561516171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4334302679561516171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/11/bubbles.html' title='Bubbles'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-6725994590231215121</id><published>2010-11-15T16:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T16:58:16.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Running and a 10 year reunion</title><content type='html'>After we went and visited our friends The Osbornes in mid-October Aiden has been walking. This weekend I had to run after him twice to catch him. He has gotten fast. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOHVnKwO2NI/AAAAAAAAAPk/Guj0nmmZOF4/s1600/fall%2B2010%2B032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539943885520689362" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOHVnKwO2NI/AAAAAAAAAPk/Guj0nmmZOF4/s320/fall%2B2010%2B032.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jay had his 10 year college reunion and we had a blast. It was our first weekend away from Aiden and I think he did better than I did. I cried like you wouldn't believe when I gave him to his grandparents. It was memorable for Jay and I to go spend a weekend at a place that has meant so much to both of us. We got to laugh and make memories with some good friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOHW969YTHI/AAAAAAAAAP0/-J9yCa73TSQ/s1600/fall%2B2010%2B012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539945375929486450" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOHW969YTHI/AAAAAAAAAP0/-J9yCa73TSQ/s320/fall%2B2010%2B012.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOHW0Og1_YI/AAAAAAAAAPs/nNRY-DcCg_8/s1600/fall%2B2010%2B008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539945209379814786" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOHW0Og1_YI/AAAAAAAAAPs/nNRY-DcCg_8/s320/fall%2B2010%2B008.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOHVGqz0vyI/AAAAAAAAAPc/2u9zBKcHP5Q/s1600/fall%2B2010%2B031.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-6725994590231215121?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/6725994590231215121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=6725994590231215121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/6725994590231215121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/6725994590231215121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/11/running-and-10-year-reunion.html' title='Running and a 10 year reunion'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TOHVnKwO2NI/AAAAAAAAAPk/Guj0nmmZOF4/s72-c/fall%2B2010%2B032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-8559613620425624248</id><published>2010-10-11T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T11:35:23.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Years</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs296.snc4/41120_1529774638079_1046102417_1513428_3532445_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 480px; HEIGHT: 720px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs296.snc4/41120_1529774638079_1046102417_1513428_3532445_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is our 7 year anniversary. When I think back about the past 7 years, I can't believe how many different paths I have been on with my husband. We have experienced more in our 7 years than most people experience in a lifetime. And I have been so thankful to have Jay by my side the entire time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have built a house, sold it, renovated a house, moved to 3 different cities, moved states, lost a baby, had a baby, coped with the diagnosis of a lifelong illness, but most of all we have laughed together every step of the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had to describe my marriage in one word it would be laughter. We laugh together every day. We find laughter in the oddest and most inappropriate places. But, at least we keep it fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you so much, Jay. Thank you for filling my life with an unexplainable amount of joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TLNWLPLuOGI/AAAAAAAAAPU/4r6JHPEAPxg/s1600/wedding2.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/7897166669271517727-8559613620425624248?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/8559613620425624248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=8559613620425624248' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8559613620425624248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8559613620425624248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/10/7-years.html' title='7 Years'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7597491042407351452</id><published>2010-10-04T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T13:12:24.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumpkin Patch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TKo1G9L2NHI/AAAAAAAAAPE/0HItv8I2UKI/s1600/DSCF1697.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524286286543074418" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TKo1G9L2NHI/AAAAAAAAAPE/0HItv8I2UKI/s320/DSCF1697.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TKo1AO1GKxI/AAAAAAAAAO8/57HO78DPr7I/s1600/DSCF1673.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524286171020405522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TKo1AO1GKxI/AAAAAAAAAO8/57HO78DPr7I/s320/DSCF1673.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TKo0y2LSDNI/AAAAAAAAAO0/ExoDXRoP6S0/s1600/DSCF1670.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524285941064273106" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TKo0y2LSDNI/AAAAAAAAAO0/ExoDXRoP6S0/s320/DSCF1670.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TKo0tqNsdFI/AAAAAAAAAOs/irKwdqs9vKc/s1600/DSCF1666.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524285851953820754" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TKo0tqNsdFI/AAAAAAAAAOs/irKwdqs9vKc/s320/DSCF1666.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7597491042407351452?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7597491042407351452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7597491042407351452' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7597491042407351452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7597491042407351452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/10/pumpkin-patch.html' title='Pumpkin Patch'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TKo1G9L2NHI/AAAAAAAAAPE/0HItv8I2UKI/s72-c/DSCF1697.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-6569063232518627107</id><published>2010-09-27T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T09:18:18.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-34f60669706303a1" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D34f60669706303a1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D346DF4620433379170E37C4487C36C9DF5792943.4F261AA735826E979CCB256E51111AFF6A2063D0%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D34f60669706303a1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9a99TlFS6FKYB8nCSUHSZVvIhAg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D34f60669706303a1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D346DF4620433379170E37C4487C36C9DF5792943.4F261AA735826E979CCB256E51111AFF6A2063D0%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D34f60669706303a1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9a99TlFS6FKYB8nCSUHSZVvIhAg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Aiden started taking unassisted steps last night. Sorry it is to the side, I can't figure out how to turn it right side up. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-6569063232518627107?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/6569063232518627107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=6569063232518627107' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/6569063232518627107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/6569063232518627107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/09/walking.html' title='Walking'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-5144587071067792827</id><published>2010-08-27T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T10:36:06.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1 year old!!??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have the uncontrollable urge to write a blog post about Aiden turning one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, it is hard to write a blog post when you have so many different feelings. Maybe a list will help...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Pride- watching my son grow from the minute he was born to a year is amazing. You can't help but wonder about all of the wonderful possibilities life holds for him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Relief- I made it through the sleepless nights, teething, infant reflux, RSV, Hand/Foot/Mouth Virus (3 times), all the while moving to a different state, quitting my job, and completing my master's degree. But, we made it through it all and really, all of those things are nothing when it really comes down to it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Fear- Will we raise him to be a great man? Will we raise him to be a good person? Will we make it through the rough teenage years in one piece? How will we take it when he gets hurt, the kind of hurt that really affects who you are and who you become? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) Excitement- Each day is exciting with Aiden and how much more excitement lays ahead? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) Sadness- My baby is growing up...enough said. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pictures from his birthday party&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/THf2IhDNwRI/AAAAAAAAAOE/7QmkS5-i5nI/s1600/Aiden%27s+b-day+2010+013+-+Copy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510143295282331922" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/THf2IhDNwRI/AAAAAAAAAOE/7QmkS5-i5nI/s320/Aiden%27s+b-day+2010+013+-+Copy.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/THf2VLdAgfI/AAAAAAAAAOM/j4rDkPpf8WM/s1600/Aiden%27s+b-day+2010+012+-+Copy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510143512823235058" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/THf2VLdAgfI/AAAAAAAAAOM/j4rDkPpf8WM/s320/Aiden%27s+b-day+2010+012+-+Copy.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/THf26zk2CHI/AAAAAAAAAOc/w3AHVdJ-OY0/s1600/Aiden%27s+b-day+2010+033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510144159248681074" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/THf26zk2CHI/AAAAAAAAAOc/w3AHVdJ-OY0/s320/Aiden%27s+b-day+2010+033.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/THf2jPKf4II/AAAAAAAAAOU/1fed-7p996M/s1600/Aiden%27s+b-day+2010+017+-+Copy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510143754337509506" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/THf2jPKf4II/AAAAAAAAAOU/1fed-7p996M/s320/Aiden%27s+b-day+2010+017+-+Copy.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-5144587071067792827?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/5144587071067792827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=5144587071067792827' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5144587071067792827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5144587071067792827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/08/1-year-old.html' title='1 year old!!??'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/THf2IhDNwRI/AAAAAAAAAOE/7QmkS5-i5nI/s72-c/Aiden%27s+b-day+2010+013+-+Copy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2531007817115557975</id><published>2010-07-28T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T07:08:31.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Walker</title><content type='html'>Aiden will be celebrating his first birthday in under a month. He wants a walker so bad. But, if are a mom you know that time right before a holiday or birthday where you refuse to buy anything because your child will get presents. So this is what he did yesterday since his mom is so mean. As we were putting up dishes we decided to get resourceful with the diswasher basket. He did this all on his own, no help from mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-69696ee62d356d45" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D69696ee62d356d45%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3E3C722607CE5D41CCE5B86BD38F94B3FD7972AF.1EF989E65095E2781FCDEAC4790836B76460263B%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D69696ee62d356d45%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DecVdIGA4HjEIxT2bVr_ycvrpkOE&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D69696ee62d356d45%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3E3C722607CE5D41CCE5B86BD38F94B3FD7972AF.1EF989E65095E2781FCDEAC4790836B76460263B%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D69696ee62d356d45%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DecVdIGA4HjEIxT2bVr_ycvrpkOE&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2531007817115557975?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2531007817115557975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2531007817115557975' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2531007817115557975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2531007817115557975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/07/walker.html' title='Walker'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-8190803834038942748</id><published>2010-07-12T10:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T11:07:49.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in mommyhood incident report #1216</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TDtYW0zD3MI/AAAAAAAAANk/8tqHBHGlAAk/s1600/Edisto+2010+082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493081319661624514" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TDtYW0zD3MI/AAAAAAAAANk/8tqHBHGlAAk/s320/Edisto+2010+082.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning when Aiden rose bright and early, I lifted him from his bed to sit with him and give him his bottle, which is our sweet mom and son ritual. You see, Aiden must have his bottle immediately. So we do that first thing, or else he acts like well, a baby. I love each morning with this little guy. He is so happy and excited to see you. While he was drinking his bottle, I noticed he had 2 spots on his forehead. So as his mother I of course promptly licked my finger to rub it off. I did this about 5 more times to get the mark off. Licking my pointer finger and rubbing his forehead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it happened. I looked down and realized that Aiden had poop coming out of his diaper. Lots of poop. All down his leg, all over his arms, on my legs from laying on me while he was taking his bottle. Getting up from the chair I see it all over his sheets too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::Light bulb moment::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gag! That was what was on his head too! I just licked my child's poo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having been an elementary school teacher, I thought I was completely prepared for all of the gross things that come with mommyhood. I mean for goodness sake, I dealt with pee, poop, drool, boogers, and snot for several years. Let me tell you, nothing prepares you for the grossness that comes with being a mommy. NOTHING!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jay~ I can't wait to give you a kiss when you get home. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-8190803834038942748?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/8190803834038942748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=8190803834038942748' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8190803834038942748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8190803834038942748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/07/adventures-in-mommyhood-incident-report.html' title='Adventures in mommyhood incident report #1216'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TDtYW0zD3MI/AAAAAAAAANk/8tqHBHGlAAk/s72-c/Edisto+2010+082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2026893943822181891</id><published>2010-07-12T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T10:49:57.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs133.snc4/36972_459939304185_514044185_6120596_4721369_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 441px; HEIGHT: 368px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs133.snc4/36972_459939304185_514044185_6120596_4721369_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My best friends and I take a week long trip to the beach each summer and thus will be our tradition for years to come, if I have anything to say about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Catherine, Luke, Aiden and I went on many walks. One where we got caught in the monsoon of 2010, saw a tree fall down right beside us and a very nice couple pulled over to give us a ride back to our home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jaimie and Jimmy got engaged! Amazing! Thank goodness I don't have to keep that a secret anymore from my best friends. I thought I was going to die. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had to deal with a husband who asked for a motorcycle every hour because Will brought his. I am still in the process of forgiving Amy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aiden cut 3 teeth while there. Really? That is my luck! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't wait until next year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2026893943822181891?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2026893943822181891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2026893943822181891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2026893943822181891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2026893943822181891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/07/beach-2010.html' title='Beach 2010'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1344789207146360689</id><published>2010-06-16T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T07:08:23.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Joy and frustration</title><content type='html'>Again, how is it possible I have a nine month old?? The time is flying by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nine months ago I left the hospital and felt good about the way I looked. I mean, I thought "oh yeah...I look good for a woman who just had a baby" I was proud of my post-partum figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward nine months and I am beyond frustrated with my figure, the scale, my daily eating, and working out. They always say to you...."It took 9 months to put on the weight, it will take you that long to get it off." Well, 9 months later it is still lingering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around March I got serious about eating better and trying to loose the weight. I also started working out again. It was hard, but I did it. I got back in the gym with thoughts of fitting into my pre-pregnancy clothes. I bought a scale to monitor my weight and got a wonderful trainer who kicks my butt every week. Jay ended up having to take the scale away from me after I would weigh myself sometimes twice daily. So instead of stressing out about the number on the scale, I continued what I was doing and tried not to pay attention to how much weight I was loosing. Then I foolishly got on the scale at the gym the other day. And it did not budge at all. Tears started welling up and I got a lump in my throat. One of my best friends reminded me that I was building muscle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look at Aiden and spend time with him, I realize that I am truly happy. Never in my life have I been this happy and fulfilled. But, it is difficult for me to realize that I made poor eating choices when I was pregnant and I am solely responsible for those decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people ask when Jay and I will have another baby. My immediate thought is "Never!! I am not doing this to my body again!" Yes, it is selfish. Very selfish. Which obviously proves that I am not ready for another baby. Hopefully, next time I will remember my previous pregnancy errors and it won't be so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I started this post I went back to find pictures to compare what I looked like before I started working out and now. Yes, there is a difference. But, I want more!! That is just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TBjZtaD9djI/AAAAAAAAANU/UsYzUrxlXdo/s1600/Our+life+140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483371920436852274" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TBjZtaD9djI/AAAAAAAAANU/UsYzUrxlXdo/s320/Our+life+140.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TBjaDcMf-gI/AAAAAAAAANc/mD2VKa0Fq9A/s1600/DSCF1272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483372298966661634" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TBjaDcMf-gI/AAAAAAAAANc/mD2VKa0Fq9A/s320/DSCF1272.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-1344789207146360689?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1344789207146360689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1344789207146360689' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1344789207146360689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1344789207146360689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/06/joy-and-frustration.html' title='Joy and frustration'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TBjZtaD9djI/AAAAAAAAANU/UsYzUrxlXdo/s72-c/Our+life+140.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-3608212466342416169</id><published>2010-05-31T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T16:40:41.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Blogger</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, I am such a bad blogger. It comes in waves! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did finally graduate with my masters in Educational Leadership. It was an experience I won't soon forget. Now I am at home full time with my little man and I could not be happier. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aiden is crawling everywhere and getting into everything. You have to watch him like a hawk. He will find dust bunnies you never knew existed and then promptly put them in his mouth. He loves to talk and can say mama and dada. Although I think he doesn't really know what he is saying. He has started to cry when you take things away from him. But, I think Jay and are doing pretty well with standing our ground and not giving the items back to him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not sure when he grew up, but he did. It is hard to believe that he has spent more time outside of my belly, than inside. He makes us so happy and we never really realized how happy life could be until he came along. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are a few pictures and a cute video of him playing peek-a-boo. I am looking forward to this summer, all of the trips we will take and posting them. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TARGnSWtHDI/AAAAAAAAAMs/TJ0BBhKwlNU/s1600/Our+life+121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477580687545277490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TARGnSWtHDI/AAAAAAAAAMs/TJ0BBhKwlNU/s320/Our+life+121.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TARG2ocTnTI/AAAAAAAAAM0/uf1YPfw5ia8/s1600/Our+life+110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477580951172390194" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TARG2ocTnTI/AAAAAAAAAM0/uf1YPfw5ia8/s320/Our+life+110.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TARHoMxIdZI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Xg77ZFIehK0/s1600/Our+life+143.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477581802737005970" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TARHoMxIdZI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Xg77ZFIehK0/s320/Our+life+143.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b39ff755df8e0536" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db39ff755df8e0536%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7AF774135A55E2DDCF6A1810DCB696AFFB6641CC.63267B218487B3106896F92B2EA15893D22D9E87%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db39ff755df8e0536%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DjJQjWgfx2EIwSoemGRVMyxKEAX4&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db39ff755df8e0536%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7AF774135A55E2DDCF6A1810DCB696AFFB6641CC.63267B218487B3106896F92B2EA15893D22D9E87%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db39ff755df8e0536%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DjJQjWgfx2EIwSoemGRVMyxKEAX4&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-3608212466342416169?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/3608212466342416169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=3608212466342416169' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3608212466342416169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3608212466342416169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/05/bad-blogger.html' title='Bad Blogger'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/TARGnSWtHDI/AAAAAAAAAMs/TJ0BBhKwlNU/s72-c/Our+life+121.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2163711219015997929</id><published>2010-04-10T13:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T13:45:45.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crawling</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e32eb71dec48dcc" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0e32eb71dec48dcc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D30387588D34662E541C4F4338E9C9FACF9A3216.20E2BE19CE68841D894486D2A8D58A399819F65F%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De32eb71dec48dcc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DBaLPb9SHnn06BL-m3S18KnxigyI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0e32eb71dec48dcc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D30387588D34662E541C4F4338E9C9FACF9A3216.20E2BE19CE68841D894486D2A8D58A399819F65F%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De32eb71dec48dcc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DBaLPb9SHnn06BL-m3S18KnxigyI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2163711219015997929?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2163711219015997929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2163711219015997929' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2163711219015997929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2163711219015997929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/04/crawling.html' title='Crawling'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-3768594269985056133</id><published>2010-04-07T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T10:43:00.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You get creative!</title><content type='html'>When Jay and I found out that I we were moving to VA and we decided I would stay home with Aiden I spoke with Jay's mom about how scared I was to be without my income. She said "It will be fine, you just creative with how you spend your money." I guess you could say I have done that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coupons! Coupons! Coupons!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is a coupon cutting machine. She stayed home with my sister and I and she was a freakin genius when it came to saving money. I do remember being embarassed at the store when my mom would pipe up and tell the cashier that their computer was wrong, and she was owed another 10 cents off. I guess I learned a little something from that. And to on to my adventures at Kmart....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kmart is having super double coupons this week. They are doupling any coupon up to $2. This is uber-exciting to me. I am so excited about my deals this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st trip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 Venus razors- $2.00&lt;br /&gt;Tampons-$0.59&lt;br /&gt;Baby Powder- $1.50&lt;br /&gt;PertPlus-$0.49&lt;br /&gt;All detergent- Free&lt;br /&gt;4 packs of Gerber baby food- $0.36&lt;br /&gt;Lil Swimmers diapers- $3.99&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total after tax: $10.04&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd trip:&lt;br /&gt;Revlon nail clippers: $0.49&lt;br /&gt;Baby powder: $1.50&lt;br /&gt;Soft Scrub kitchen cleaner: Free&lt;br /&gt;Huggies diapers: $5.99&lt;br /&gt;Softsoap body wash: $1.99&lt;br /&gt;Sudafed PE: $1.99&lt;br /&gt;Pledge cleaner: $2.00&lt;br /&gt;Bag of reeses pieces: $0.49&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total after tax: 17.11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;Total before coupons: $74.86&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total for everything after coupons: $27.11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7zDRvQvFHI/AAAAAAAAAMk/8cIDfTM6fnY/s1600/Aiden2+374.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457451557978051698" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7zDRvQvFHI/AAAAAAAAAMk/8cIDfTM6fnY/s320/Aiden2+374.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a pic of just some of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, just so you know, Kmart didn't douple one of my $2.00 coupons, so I went back in to get my $4.00. My mama tought me well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonder how long it will be before I embarass Aiden.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-3768594269985056133?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/3768594269985056133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=3768594269985056133' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3768594269985056133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3768594269985056133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/04/you-get-creative.html' title='You get creative!'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7zDRvQvFHI/AAAAAAAAAMk/8cIDfTM6fnY/s72-c/Aiden2+374.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7944387466026291372</id><published>2010-04-07T10:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T10:52:41.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loads of great pictures!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y99KOxSJI/AAAAAAAAAMU/GDFN9g_oGKo/s1600/Aiden2+354.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457445706882173074" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y99KOxSJI/AAAAAAAAAMU/GDFN9g_oGKo/s320/Aiden2+354.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My child is the cutest! He makes me smile like no one else can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y9xVRW9rI/AAAAAAAAAMM/W51TwWVL-7k/s1600/Aiden2+355.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457445503687390898" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y9xVRW9rI/AAAAAAAAAMM/W51TwWVL-7k/s320/Aiden2+355.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunt Amy came to Richmond to visit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y9kbWKgcI/AAAAAAAAAME/tUttpXrdzrc/s1600/Aiden2+356.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457445281979859394" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y9kbWKgcI/AAAAAAAAAME/tUttpXrdzrc/s320/Aiden2+356.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunt Amy played guitar for him. He loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y9YAiKRDI/AAAAAAAAAL8/q8rYttiXREE/s1600/Aiden2+357.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457445068623987762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y9YAiKRDI/AAAAAAAAAL8/q8rYttiXREE/s320/Aiden2+357.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our visit to the zoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y9Ja4a1oI/AAAAAAAAAL0/1ZMNmd63uGE/s1600/Aiden2+363.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457444817998632578" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y9Ja4a1oI/AAAAAAAAAL0/1ZMNmd63uGE/s320/Aiden2+363.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden loves him some MMP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y85H-HS7I/AAAAAAAAALs/iZDQqfWxlYU/s1600/Aiden2+371.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457444538044337074" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y85H-HS7I/AAAAAAAAALs/iZDQqfWxlYU/s320/Aiden2+371.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden and mommy on Easter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y8tZRwJHI/AAAAAAAAALk/aDHcsVF2qaI/s1600/Aiden2+373.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457444336531678322" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y8tZRwJHI/AAAAAAAAALk/aDHcsVF2qaI/s320/Aiden2+373.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden and Gigi on Easter&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7944387466026291372?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7944387466026291372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7944387466026291372' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7944387466026291372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7944387466026291372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/04/loads-of-great-pictures.html' title='Loads of great pictures!'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S7y99KOxSJI/AAAAAAAAAMU/GDFN9g_oGKo/s72-c/Aiden2+354.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1804770063667475356</id><published>2010-03-18T07:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T07:02:23.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI2ODkyMDg3OTY1NSZwdD*xMjY4OTIwOTI1MjE4JnA9MjM*NDcxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz*wZDk1OTIxMzkyNzQ*/OWI*YjcxYTE5YjRjOTljNjFlZA==.gif" /&gt;                                    &lt;embed width="440" height="420" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://v5.tinypic.com/player.swf?file=2e1dov4&amp;s=5" FlashVars="gig_lt=1268920879655&amp;gig_pt=1268920925218&amp;gig_g=1&amp;gig_n=blogger"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinypic.com/player.php?v=2e1dov4&amp;s=5"&gt;Original Video&lt;/a&gt; - More videos at &lt;a href="http://tinypic.com"&gt;TinyPic&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;                                 &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-1804770063667475356?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1804770063667475356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1804770063667475356' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1804770063667475356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1804770063667475356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/03/original-video-more-videos-at-tinypic_18.html' title=''/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-5530482562492085379</id><published>2010-03-05T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T16:47:29.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Cow 6 months!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlZRRwrEI/AAAAAAAAALQ/VdF2D6FP9dg/s1600-h/Aiden2+340.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445315278020848706" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlZRRwrEI/AAAAAAAAALQ/VdF2D6FP9dg/s320/Aiden2+340.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlZJdlEKI/AAAAAAAAALI/pQD8uG5OX2E/s1600-h/Aiden2+346.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445315275922935970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlZJdlEKI/AAAAAAAAALI/pQD8uG5OX2E/s320/Aiden2+346.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlYvmDjKI/AAAAAAAAALA/W4EJmEMivNk/s1600-h/Aiden2+348.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445315268979166370" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlYvmDjKI/AAAAAAAAALA/W4EJmEMivNk/s320/Aiden2+348.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlYWFMpMI/AAAAAAAAAK4/gx_TCnkifro/s1600-h/Aiden2+350.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445315262130463938" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlYWFMpMI/AAAAAAAAAK4/gx_TCnkifro/s320/Aiden2+350.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlYCWIcvI/AAAAAAAAAKw/IhvpcrHgf2o/s1600-h/Aiden2+352.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445315256832783090" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlYCWIcvI/AAAAAAAAAKw/IhvpcrHgf2o/s320/Aiden2+352.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is so hard to believe that Aiden is 6 months old. A half a year! Wow, they really do grow up too fast. He is getting such a fun personality. He laughs and waves his arms when he gets excited. He is so much fun. He can now get onto his knees and I know that crawling is just around the corner. SCARY stuff! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Between being overly stressed about finishing my masters and leaving home for two days a week, my breast milk took a serious nose dive. I am now supplementing with formula. It has seriously broken my heart. I have cried for days. I feel very defeated. To me it was the one thing that I could give Aiden that no one else could. And now it is gone. I knew the time would come when I weaned him, but I didn't expect for it to be forced on me. It also means that he is growing up, which in many ways makes me sad. I am very joyous about the time I will be able to spend with him, but I know I will never have him as a baby again. Jay makes fun of me and tells me he is not moving to college tomorrow, but I feel like he is. Like he will walk out the door any moment and not look back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sigh.....over dramatic....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-5530482562492085379?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/5530482562492085379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=5530482562492085379' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5530482562492085379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5530482562492085379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/03/holy-cow-6-months.html' title='Holy Cow 6 months!'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S5GlZRRwrEI/AAAAAAAAALQ/VdF2D6FP9dg/s72-c/Aiden2+340.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7205280748283850447</id><published>2010-02-18T07:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T07:16:18.789-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching up</title><content type='html'>Catherine brought to my attention that I should post on my blog more. I promise to make a valiant effort to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YkF_z05I/AAAAAAAAAKg/3OfeZUfkjvY/s1600-h/Aiden2+289.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439601302041777042" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YkF_z05I/AAAAAAAAAKg/3OfeZUfkjvY/s320/Aiden2+289.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every Sunday we usually sit at the table while mommy cuts coupons and daddy plays with Aiden. Jay wanted to check out the best buy ad, so I snapped a picture. Cute huh? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YXdb6mpI/AAAAAAAAAKY/eQU8jmWNFpc/s1600-h/Aiden2+293.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439601084995377810" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YXdb6mpI/AAAAAAAAAKY/eQU8jmWNFpc/s320/Aiden2+293.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden took over. This child loves paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YOPMsatI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/gDH0suDoTpM/s1600-h/Aiden2+297.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439600926554614482" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YOPMsatI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/gDH0suDoTpM/s320/Aiden2+297.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teething you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YICV2a7I/AAAAAAAAAKI/c9kX9mEaD2Q/s1600-h/Aiden2+298.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439600820024142770" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YICV2a7I/AAAAAAAAAKI/c9kX9mEaD2Q/s320/Aiden2+298.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am worried that he will be the child that eats paper in kindergarten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YBSx28vI/AAAAAAAAAKA/yUWC1hFVAB4/s1600-h/Aiden2+306.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439600704177500914" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YBSx28vI/AAAAAAAAAKA/yUWC1hFVAB4/s320/Aiden2+306.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loves getting on daddy's shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31X5zXdS8I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/Afp0iGZllZU/s1600-h/Aiden2+307.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439600575486184386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31X5zXdS8I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/Afp0iGZllZU/s320/Aiden2+307.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Playing with my friend Shelby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31Xyy2_bEI/AAAAAAAAAJw/2Oz9VRtodKY/s1600-h/Aiden2+312.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439600455090924610" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31Xyy2_bEI/AAAAAAAAAJw/2Oz9VRtodKY/s320/Aiden2+312.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for the card Gigi and Pops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31XrdPvAII/AAAAAAAAAJo/sEhtlWKsx1s/s1600-h/Aiden2+313.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439600329030041730" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31XrdPvAII/AAAAAAAAAJo/sEhtlWKsx1s/s320/Aiden2+313.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Aunt Jaimie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Valentine's day cards for Trout family &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aiden-2 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jay-1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me-0 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't you feel bad for me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7205280748283850447?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7205280748283850447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7205280748283850447' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7205280748283850447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7205280748283850447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/02/catching-up.html' title='Catching up'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S31YkF_z05I/AAAAAAAAAKg/3OfeZUfkjvY/s72-c/Aiden2+289.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2739702140923129691</id><published>2010-02-03T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T16:54:46.842-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Before I was a mom</title><content type='html'>Before I was a Mom I made and ate hot meals.&lt;br /&gt;I had unstained clothing.&lt;br /&gt;I had quiet conversations on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I was a Mom I slept as late as I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;I never worried about how late I got into bed.&lt;br /&gt;I brushed my hair and my teeth everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I was Mom I cleaned my house each day.&lt;br /&gt;I never tripped over toys or forgot words to lullabies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I was a Mom I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous.&lt;br /&gt;I never thought about immunizations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I was a Mom I had never been puked on, pooped on, spit on, peed on, or pinched by tiny fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I was a Mom I had complete control of my mind, my thoughts, my body and all my feelings. I slept all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I was a Mom I never held down a screaming child so that doctors could do tests or give shots.&lt;br /&gt;I never looked into teary eyes and cried.&lt;br /&gt;I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.&lt;br /&gt;I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I was a Mom I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put it down.&lt;br /&gt;I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the hurt.&lt;br /&gt;I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much.&lt;br /&gt;I never knew that I could love someone so much.&lt;br /&gt;I never knew I would love being a Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I was a Mom I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know that bond between a Mother and her child.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I was a Mom I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure all was OK.&lt;br /&gt;I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love, the heartache or the satisfaction of being a Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much............before I was a Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Author Unknown&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2739702140923129691?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2739702140923129691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2739702140923129691' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2739702140923129691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2739702140923129691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/02/before-i-was-mom.html' title='Before I was a mom'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-50310997565188263</id><published>2010-01-21T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T06:41:17.191-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Aiden,</title><content type='html'>You are the most amazing little man. I never thought someone so tiny could hold my heart the way you do. Anything is possible for you in your life.&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you never loose the smile you have now. You are very happy most of the time and love smiling. When you smile you can change the mood in the room instantly.&lt;br /&gt;I hope you never loose your active behavior. Yesterday at the pediatrician you were labeled a "wiggler". I hope you keep that active lifestyle forever and turn it into something that you enjoy doing.&lt;br /&gt;You love to cuddle. I hope that one day when you fall in love and marry an amazing woman that you still love to cuddle. I hope that you love her the way your daddy loves me. Laugh with her when she says something stupid and hold her hand and cry with her if you ever have your dreams shattered.&lt;br /&gt;I hope you continue to love animals. You sit there and watch our dogs as they walk from room to room.&lt;br /&gt;You love being naked. That is fine right now. When you are a teenager, I hope you love clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are so much like me already it scares me. You rub your feet together the same way I do. You hate taking naps like me. You expect things done immediately like I do. I hope you don't end up with my temper. Sometimes, I wish you were more like your dad. I hope as your personality comes out, I see some of his personality in you. He is a great man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that I teach you how important family is. Gigi and Pops did a great job with daddy and Aunt Kelly and they know how important family is. Daddy still loves to go home and see Gigi. I hope you love to come home and see me as much.  &lt;br /&gt;Make sure you love with all of your heart. You will get your heart broken many times. But, always love and don't be afraid to love.&lt;br /&gt;I love you and can't wait to see you grow up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-50310997565188263?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/50310997565188263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=50310997565188263' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/50310997565188263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/50310997565188263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/01/dear-aiden.html' title='Dear Aiden,'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1636412994539740430</id><published>2010-01-16T16:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T17:41:34.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspired by a friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A friend of mine recently posted her memories of the day her little girl was born. I loved reading it so much that I decided to get mine posted in my blog too. And remember, it may not be for the faint of heart..you know I am not modest. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to my regular scheduled weekly appointment on Monday, August 25, 2009. The dr. believed Aiden had an exceptionally large head so he scheduled an induction for that Thursday morning. I went home so excited that by Friday I would be a mother. That evening was like any other. Dinner with Jay, kiss goodnight at 9pm, Jay stayed downstairs and watched TV like he always does while I went to bed. About 30 minutes after I went to bed I awoke feeling like I had use the restroom. I got up, tried to use the restroom, and laid back down. Then I felt it immediately again, I HAD to use the bathroom. Nothing. I walked back to the bedroom and my water broke in transit. For those of youthat have not experienced your water breaking let me tell you, there are more fluids than you could imagine. I looked down and I was sure it was my water breaking. I yelled "Jay" and he came running upstairs. I told him my water broke. He then began to run around the room in the cute way that you only see on TV. I remember being as calm as could be and watching him do circles around the room trying to find jeans that were right in front of him, all the while he was grinning from ear to ear. I made him go get me a towel to sit on in the car on the way to the hospital (again the fluids). He came back with a towel that was in his Scout and had pollen pods all over it. Really? Only my husband. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got checked into labor and delivery and my water had been constantly breaking for about 45 minutes. One nurse came in and said "We are going to check to see if your water actually broke and if it didn't we will see you back here on Thursday." I thought I was going to throw the little lady out the window. In my head I am saying "I haven't gone through three pairs of pants peeing on myself". The contractions were bearable at first and then they came strong, hard, and quick. I asked for the epidural when the dr. came to visit me. He told me that I wasn't officially checked in to the hospital yet and they were waiting for that to be complete before I could get the epi. I asked "At what point will you not give it to me? How far along?" His exact words were "This is your first pregnancy, you will be in labor for a long time, we have plenty of time before that happens." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So to recap: 9pm- water broke 10:30- ask for epi 11:30-finally get epi &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At 11:50 Jay goes to get food and right after he leaves they check me and I was fully dilated. So I call Jay and tell him to come back. By 3:08 our lives had changed forever. As soon as Aiden arrived I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Jay went over to the table while they cleaned him up and I asked over and over again "Is he ok?" I remember when I was pregnant wondering if it would take time for me to bond with Aiden before I felt totally in love with him. It is amazing how you automatically and overwhelmingly love this little person with every fiber of yourself. Over the next few days I would sit and gaze in amazement at this little creation. I was so scared to take him home. Scared I would hurt him accidently or not know what to do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still find myself gazing at him. He is the most amazing little man I could imagine. Every day with him is a wonderful gift from God. Jay and I have never been happier. I love being a mom! he is now almost 5 months old and growing up too fast. I am trying to cherish each precious moment of rocking, holding, smiling and cooing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S1JqVAIiQQI/AAAAAAAAAJY/RLuai5vtKXo/s1600-h/Aiden2+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427517409980465410" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S1JqVAIiQQI/AAAAAAAAAJY/RLuai5vtKXo/s320/Aiden2+021.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7897166669271517727-1636412994539740430?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1636412994539740430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1636412994539740430' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1636412994539740430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1636412994539740430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/01/inspired-by-friend.html' title='Inspired by a friend'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S1JqVAIiQQI/AAAAAAAAAJY/RLuai5vtKXo/s72-c/Aiden2+021.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7038197155634817795</id><published>2010-01-14T08:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T08:36:57.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09F25KLaEI/AAAAAAAAAJI/fhsSVoAKUGY/s1600-h/Aiden2+215.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426632885363501122" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09F25KLaEI/AAAAAAAAAJI/fhsSVoAKUGY/s320/Aiden2+215.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Christmas Eve with my favorite people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09FlXRmR0I/AAAAAAAAAJA/T30UzEhCVaI/s1600-h/Aiden2+219.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426632584210040642" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09FlXRmR0I/AAAAAAAAAJA/T30UzEhCVaI/s320/Aiden2+219.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Right after Aiden's Baptism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09FeTzQDAI/AAAAAAAAAI4/wRBY3HZ9xKE/s1600-h/Aiden2+218.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09FKcKUJTI/AAAAAAAAAIw/WzUn40LLqsc/s1600-h/Aiden2+226.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426632121665201458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09FKcKUJTI/AAAAAAAAAIw/WzUn40LLqsc/s320/Aiden2+226.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Got my hair did and wanted to take pictures!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09E-EjV35I/AAAAAAAAAIo/KD9AgnaRvmY/s1600-h/Aiden2+239.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426631909169291154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09E-EjV35I/AAAAAAAAAIo/KD9AgnaRvmY/s320/Aiden2+239.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09En3_TqnI/AAAAAAAAAIg/HVCKkAn7ypU/s1600-h/Aiden2+244.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426631527839804018" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09En3_TqnI/AAAAAAAAAIg/HVCKkAn7ypU/s320/Aiden2+244.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; At Lewis Ginter enoying the Christmas lights. It was beautiful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09ES_nNC-I/AAAAAAAAAIY/rQDGekPiFnw/s1600-h/Aiden2+261.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426631169108937698" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09ES_nNC-I/AAAAAAAAAIY/rQDGekPiFnw/s320/Aiden2+261.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Enjoying the fire!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09D38908iI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/1BCfGzRV_uk/s1600-h/Aiden2+273.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426630704542052898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09D38908iI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/1BCfGzRV_uk/s320/Aiden2+273.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Aiden's first taste of rice cereal. It was a success!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7038197155634817795?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7038197155634817795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7038197155634817795' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7038197155634817795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7038197155634817795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2010/01/some-pictures.html' title='Some pictures'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/S09F25KLaEI/AAAAAAAAAJI/fhsSVoAKUGY/s72-c/Aiden2+215.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2191211798508336106</id><published>2009-12-12T17:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T17:35:15.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our visit with Santa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been cold in Virginia! I think the high today was in the forties. We wanted to take Aiden to do his first pictures with Santa. So I bundled him up in his cutest fleece outfit and put a big bib on him to catch all of his spit up between home and Santa. When we arrived at the mall Santa was on his break, so Jay and I decided to go get dinner while we waited. I was holding Aiden and I could feel him poop. I said "Oh nooooo" and Jay took him to the bathroom to get him cleaned up. Aiden pooped all over everything he had on. His Pamper just couldn't hold it all. Jay returned 20 minutes later looking like this. I laughed so hard I cried. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414527926428443618" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SyREdjEzI-I/AAAAAAAAAHg/_zrLHG5yg_A/s320/Aiden+153.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;So we went to Gymboree and bought a new outfit, down to his socks. We then proceeded to wait in line for an hour until 7pm which incidentally is Aiden's bedtime. I thought for sure we were going to get the classic crying baby photo and part of me really wanted that. But we got a good one anyway. And he had on a really cute, brand new outfit.  &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414527457867194210" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SyRECRjF32I/AAAAAAAAAHY/ViHyTnE4xF0/s320/Aiden+146.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2191211798508336106?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2191211798508336106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2191211798508336106' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2191211798508336106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2191211798508336106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/12/our-visit-with-santa.html' title='Our visit with Santa'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SyREdjEzI-I/AAAAAAAAAHg/_zrLHG5yg_A/s72-c/Aiden+153.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7532978463375716806</id><published>2009-11-12T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T17:26:02.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We are now Virginians!</title><content type='html'>We love Virginia so far. But, I am not sure if it is a love of Virginia or how everything is just so right. I was forced to quit my job with this move and we decided my time would be best spent with Aiden. God really had a plan for us. I can't imagine not seeing everything this child does on a daily basis. This time is so precious and I am so lucky that I get to witness every moment. Don't get me wrong, it is hard. Unbelieveably hard! I rarely get to speak to an adult and end up in my sweats all day. Hopefully that will change as we start to go out in VA and do more. In fact we are starting a baby gym class and supposedly each week we will learn a new sign. As in sign language. We will see if it works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a sweet baby. He has started to grab things, he can hold his head up pretty well, he can stand for a few moments when you hold him, and he has started to smile at you. His smile will melt your heart. This morning I went to get him out of his crib and when he saw me he smiled. That is what pure joy feels like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-4570f039290296ac" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4570f039290296ac%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D53CF534B820D0859D5C3728763881CC2A12736F7.7D67DC1A450B3B5875B7FD8702BD99F349591131%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4570f039290296ac%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DRxoyFr-hdL1qypX9ysOCOb6CBMQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4570f039290296ac%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330029085%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D53CF534B820D0859D5C3728763881CC2A12736F7.7D67DC1A450B3B5875B7FD8702BD99F349591131%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4570f039290296ac%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DRxoyFr-hdL1qypX9ysOCOb6CBMQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7532978463375716806?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7532978463375716806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7532978463375716806' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7532978463375716806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7532978463375716806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/11/we-are-now-virginians.html' title='We are now Virginians!'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2444063285980927824</id><published>2009-09-16T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T07:59:36.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our little man</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://cmsmithportraits.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/01243FB-002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 487px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 608px" alt="" src="http://cmsmithportraits.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/01243FB-002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Introducing our little man. He is so amazing and we love spending every waking moment with him. Even some of the moments that occur at 3am are so precious. It is funny how someone who has only been on Earth for three weeks can have a personality, but he does. He loves to be held and rocked. He doesn't like to nap during the day, he will fight it until his body hits his swing. When he wakes up he throws both hands above his head and stretches. He doesn't like to be cold and therefore hates to have his clothes changed and even his diaper. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am attempting to take everyone's advice and cherish every moment right now, because he is only this young once. I am also so thankful that God has led us to Richmond, VA. It is giving me the oppurtunity to spend as much time with him during his first year of life as possible. I would have never done that had God not intervened in our plan. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are some more pictures....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://cmsmithportraits.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/01243FB-011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 608px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 487px" alt="" src="http://cmsmithportraits.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/01243FB-011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://cmsmithportraits.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/01243FB-016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 608px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 487px" alt="" src="http://cmsmithportraits.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/01243FB-016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2444063285980927824?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2444063285980927824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2444063285980927824' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2444063285980927824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2444063285980927824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/09/our-little-man.html' title='Our little man'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-3727576019127509646</id><published>2009-08-16T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T18:16:53.279-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Could be my last pregnancy survey</title><content type='html'>How far along? 38 weeks&lt;br /&gt;weight gain/loss:I will no longer be answering this question. Boo to the scale!&lt;br /&gt;Maternity clothes? really any clothes that will actually fit now. I now realize why some pregnant women have their belly hanging out from the bottom of their shirt&lt;br /&gt;Stretch marks? Still none.. Please stay away!&lt;br /&gt;Sleep: Some nights I sleep and some nights I get none.&lt;br /&gt;Best moment this week: Knowing I will meet Aiden soon!&lt;br /&gt;Movement: He has slowed down a lot. There can't be much room in there.&lt;br /&gt;Food cravings: I have not been as hungry lately.&lt;br /&gt;Gender: BOY!&lt;br /&gt;Labor Signs: I had some blood this morning. Kind of exciting at this point in pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;Belly Button in or out? Way out, and it hurts&lt;br /&gt;What I miss: Currently it is bending over&lt;br /&gt;What I am looking forward to: Viewing my maternity pictures and getting my glider in&lt;br /&gt;Weekly Wisdom: Order your glider early&lt;br /&gt;Milestones: Full term....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-3727576019127509646?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/3727576019127509646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=3727576019127509646' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3727576019127509646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3727576019127509646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/08/could-be-my-last-pregnancy-survey.html' title='Could be my last pregnancy survey'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-8967098252974734839</id><published>2009-08-09T13:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T14:08:06.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Virginia is for lovers</title><content type='html'>Well, DH lost his job at his manufacturing facility here in South Carolina. We have been presented with a wonderful oppurtunity to move to Richmond, Virginia. Which is perfect and exciting except for figuring out how to finish my master's program. I have put my heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into finishing this program for a year and half. At first, I said to myself "Self, you can just transfer to a university in VA and everything will be fine." Wrong! As I started to research I found out that the one and only university in Richmond that offers my program will only except 6 credit hours in for transfer. I have 24 hours. Not OK. I tried calling and emailing the dean of educational leadership at the VA university. Only to get a reply and I quote "You would be better off to try and finish your program in SC". So watch me, I will finish this program and graduate in May come hell or high water. It will be done. I will not give up. I will move to Richmond and finish my master's program..stay tuned...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-8967098252974734839?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/8967098252974734839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=8967098252974734839' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8967098252974734839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8967098252974734839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/08/virginia-is-for-lovers.html' title='Virginia is for lovers'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2339465992242505878</id><published>2009-07-19T18:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T18:39:32.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Week 34</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs140.snc1/5968_1188521077415_1359988498_526743_2083170_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 453px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 604px" alt="" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs140.snc1/5968_1188521077415_1359988498_526743_2083170_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I rocked a bikini in Edisto!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How far along? 34 weeks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weight gain/loss:I will no longer be answering this question. Boo to the scale!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maternity clothes? yep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stretch marks? Still none.. Please stay away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep: What is this sleep that you speak of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best moment this week: Having my girlfriends feel Aiden move for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movement: He has very active days and loves the left side of my belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food cravings: Anything sweet and chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gender: BOY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Labor Signs: I am having random contractions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belly Button in or out? Way out, and it hurts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I miss: My girly figure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am looking forward to: My maternity photo shoot and finishing the nursery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekly Wisdom: Get the nursery completed early&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Milestones: Aiden is estimated at 5 pounds. That means to me if he was a preemie he would do well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2339465992242505878?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2339465992242505878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2339465992242505878' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2339465992242505878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2339465992242505878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/07/week-34.html' title='Week 34'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-3306805784261112838</id><published>2009-06-29T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T11:34:11.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pregnancy Survey</title><content type='html'>How far along? 31 weeks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weight gain/loss: Well, the dr. says 18. I say I gained some weight in between finding out I was pregnant and my first appointment. I say 25.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maternity clothes? yep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stretch marks? None yet, I am hoping it stays that way. I know I am fighting a losing battle. But I still lube up the belly daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep:Some nights are good, some are really bad. Luckily, I have more good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best moment this week: Just feeling him move. I will miss it. I love feeling him move no matter where I am or what I am doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movement: He likes to punch mom's bladder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food cravings: Does anyone have any pastries?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gender: BOY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Labor Signs: None, thank God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belly Button in or out? Way out, you can see it through my clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I miss: The things that I would not give a second thought to doing, like going tubing with the family in the mountains this past weekend. I was really disappointed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am looking forward to: Meeting Aiden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekly Wisdom: Thou shall never think a pregnant lady has it easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Milestones: 31 weeks is a great milestone. I feel more confident the longer Aiden continues to grow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-3306805784261112838?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/3306805784261112838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=3306805784261112838' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3306805784261112838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3306805784261112838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/06/pregnancy-survey.html' title='Pregnancy Survey'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-3465160066448160849</id><published>2009-06-20T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T15:59:44.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So I find symbolism in small places</title><content type='html'>I had a wonderful shower on May 30th. It was wonderful to get to spend time with the poeple I care about the most in this world.&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few pics:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1iKyy3UNI/AAAAAAAAAGI/b7woWojAs1I/s1600-h/shower4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349539869959344338" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1iKyy3UNI/AAAAAAAAAGI/b7woWojAs1I/s320/shower4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1iRFr_ccI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/CdIQVfAuDDY/s1600-h/shower5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349539978110005698" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1iRFr_ccI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/CdIQVfAuDDY/s320/shower5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1iVdN6jvI/AAAAAAAAAGY/BRbfWpoKbHY/s1600-h/shower6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349540053145784050" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1iVdN6jvI/AAAAAAAAAGY/BRbfWpoKbHY/s320/shower6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here are the pics when my best friends and I decided to get our husbands to take a photo of all of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1jjd6LMpI/AAAAAAAAAGo/gSErqNJLNZY/s1600-h/belly+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349541393361220242" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1jjd6LMpI/AAAAAAAAAGo/gSErqNJLNZY/s320/belly+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1jKoiQvlI/AAAAAAAAAGg/I7kJ-8Hsf1c/s1600-h/belly+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349540966716980818" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1jKoiQvlI/AAAAAAAAAGg/I7kJ-8Hsf1c/s320/belly+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to self: Get someone else's husband to take pics or get Jay photography lessons. We go through the same thing when we take my belly pics. I have Jay take 10 before I find one that will work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my shower I had to find some new homes for all of the goodies we recieved. Aiden is so lucky to have so many people that care about him. I went downstairs to find a spot for the baby bottles and accessories. Low and behold where is there room? Where my martini glasses are! SO I began to move my martini glasses to the top of the cabinet. Very symbolic don't you think? Martini glasses to baby bottles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1mNxarP4I/AAAAAAAAAGw/EsfN5pzQJZk/s1600-h/belly+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349544319175573378" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1mNxarP4I/AAAAAAAAAGw/EsfN5pzQJZk/s320/belly+020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1mlxOONvI/AAAAAAAAAG4/MBS3aoiLcro/s1600-h/belly+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349544731440199410" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1mlxOONvI/AAAAAAAAAG4/MBS3aoiLcro/s320/belly+021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-3465160066448160849?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/3465160066448160849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=3465160066448160849' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3465160066448160849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/3465160066448160849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/06/so-i-find-symbolism-in-small-places.html' title='So I find symbolism in small places'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sj1iKyy3UNI/AAAAAAAAAGI/b7woWojAs1I/s72-c/shower4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1864226934383027576</id><published>2009-05-20T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T06:59:09.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>25 weeks</title><content type='html'>There is not much that the 2 people who read my blog don't already know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Got pneumonia, because of fever got very dehydrated, because of dehydration started having contractions and spent 4 days in the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Put on bedrest for 2 weeks because of #1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Aiden and myself are doing just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I have my first shower on May 30th. I am super excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of Jay in our house on a normal basis now. Apparently he thinks it is cold in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/ShSjzGfSMbI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/9jx62nzaYsk/s1600-h/belly+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338071556651364786" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/ShSjzGfSMbI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/9jx62nzaYsk/s320/belly+001.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;And here is a pic of me on the same day. (Notice what I am wearing). 25 weeks..wow! My belly is getting big. It is hard to believe that I have less time being pregnant then the amount of time I have been pregnant. 15 weeks to go! I hope we have a cold snap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/ShSkhklSn7I/AAAAAAAAAFY/uwIxZ-X7KEg/s1600-h/belly+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338072355003604914" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/ShSkhklSn7I/AAAAAAAAAFY/uwIxZ-X7KEg/s320/belly+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-1864226934383027576?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1864226934383027576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1864226934383027576' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1864226934383027576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1864226934383027576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/05/25-weeks.html' title='25 weeks'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/ShSjzGfSMbI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/9jx62nzaYsk/s72-c/belly+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-8566104138593144237</id><published>2009-05-16T09:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T09:51:18.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn the man!</title><content type='html'>Postage prices went up again. The man is always putting me down. I just bought 20 stamps and now I have to go back and buy 2 cent stamps! Damn the man!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-8566104138593144237?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/8566104138593144237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=8566104138593144237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8566104138593144237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8566104138593144237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/05/damn-man.html' title='Damn the man!'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7444733735759007114</id><published>2009-05-14T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T08:44:19.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am not sure if I am prepared for this part of life (dog related)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sgw8OCUGnkI/AAAAAAAAAFI/pCgqWMArT0A/s1600-h/Mallory_and_Kim%27s_dogs_436.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335705870364220994" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sgw8OCUGnkI/AAAAAAAAAFI/pCgqWMArT0A/s320/Mallory_and_Kim%27s_dogs_436.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night as my dog, Alston got annoyed with me not sitting still and he left the bedroom. I made the comment to Jay that Alston was becoming a grumpy old man. Then it dawned on me that Alston was nearing 8 years old. It is hard to believe that as far as doggie life spans goes, he is old. He has really changed in the past year. He has become grumpy and very secluded from my husband and me. He is very content laying on the couch downstairs by himself. When he was younger he was very much a lap dog and a cuddler. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please keep in mind with the next part, I am pregnant and hormonal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night I started to think about how he was entering the last stages of his life, and I am not at all prepared for that. When you have a puppy sometimes you wish the time away, saying that you wish they were older and calmer. But now, I wish he was a puppy again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7444733735759007114?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7444733735759007114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7444733735759007114' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7444733735759007114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7444733735759007114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-am-not-sure-if-i-am-prepared-for-this.html' title='I am not sure if I am prepared for this part of life (dog related)'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sgw8OCUGnkI/AAAAAAAAAFI/pCgqWMArT0A/s72-c/Mallory_and_Kim%27s_dogs_436.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-244816711361893687</id><published>2009-04-23T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T07:22:57.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And God grants us humility</title><content type='html'>I have noticed that when I get really down on certain areas of my life, God has a way of granting me humility and making me realize that everything is just as it should be. I have been very negative about teaching recently. Everyone at school was getting on my nerves and I was not looking forward to going to work at all. Today, one of my co-workers emailed me about an after-school club that she runs at my school in conjuction with the local church. She told me that every meeting the students make prayer requests. And she thought I would like to see the list for Wednesday afternoon. It said "Several kids requested that we pray for Mrs. T because she is pregnant." I was so glad that I read the prayer request at home because the tears just streamed down my face. After I told a friend about this she told me that the same thing will happen when Aiden arrives. She said there are times she gets so mad or frustrated at her kids, and God reminds her what all she has to be thankful for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-244816711361893687?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/244816711361893687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=244816711361893687' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/244816711361893687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/244816711361893687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-god-grants-us-humility.html' title='And God grants us humility'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-5901428014266693116</id><published>2009-04-23T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T13:55:27.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He he</title><content type='html'>I was told by a close friend that I could not have such happy go lucky posts about Aiden and have the blog title: Bitter Party of One. So until I come up with a better title we are now: Bitter Party of Two! He he...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-5901428014266693116?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/5901428014266693116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=5901428014266693116' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5901428014266693116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5901428014266693116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/04/he-he.html' title='He he'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1705678555096322521</id><published>2009-04-16T05:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T05:23:30.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We're having a boy!</title><content type='html'>Yipee! We are so excited. We found out last week at our ultrasound and his name will be Aiden Hamilton. I am kind of a fuddy-duddy about my ultrasound pics and I don't think I want to post them. I mean the thought of my uterus being posted on the internet send shivers down my spine. So, unless you are a close friend you probably won't see them. I may change my mind as time goes on, we will see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began looking at day cares this week. This is not the fun task that most things involving this pregnancy are. I can't imagine having to hand my baby off to a stranger after only 8 weeks of time in this world. I am going back out today to look at more, and hopefully I will have a better attitude than I did yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My DH had never really read my blog before so I sent him the link so he could look at it. He came home that evening and said "we need to talk about your blog". I am sitting there going "I haven't said anything bad about him, what is his problem?" He then says, "I looked at Amy's and hers is much better than yours. She has videos and all kinds of stuff." My DH is a silly jokester, so this is not at all out of character.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-1705678555096322521?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1705678555096322521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1705678555096322521' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1705678555096322521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1705678555096322521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/04/were-having-boy.html' title='We&apos;re having a boy!'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-4322362386764838071</id><published>2009-04-05T12:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T12:13:17.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our sweet potato</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.thenestbaby.com/stages/wk18_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 425px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px" alt="" src="http://images.thenestbaby.com/stages/wk18_lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is an awfully weird looking sweet potato. Anywho, I am feeling a lot more movement recently and baby T even woke me up in the middle of the night moving. It is such a surreal experience to feel your child growing inside of you. We bought a gender neutral stroller this week and that was our first big baby purchase. It was very exciting! We bought it because it was on super sale. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, the important news: I go in on Thursday for our big ultrasound to find out if we are having a boy or a girl. Jay and I are very anxious to find out. We also prayed this morning for the health of baby T this week at our ultrasound. But, do not expect to find out what we are having on Thursday. We are going to have the ultrasound tech write down the sex on a card and seal it. We are then going to go home and open it with our family over Easter weekend. We can't wait! I just hope that Jay does not torture me with the card. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is a pic of my belly from this week: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SdkCkzmGQGI/AAAAAAAAAE4/GZGQ7dGLoAk/s1600-h/belly-17w4d+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321287266063499362" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SdkCkzmGQGI/AAAAAAAAAE4/GZGQ7dGLoAk/s320/belly-17w4d+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7897166669271517727-4322362386764838071?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/4322362386764838071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=4322362386764838071' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4322362386764838071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4322362386764838071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/04/our-sweet-potato.html' title='Our sweet potato'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SdkCkzmGQGI/AAAAAAAAAE4/GZGQ7dGLoAk/s72-c/belly-17w4d+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-5642442663670616143</id><published>2009-03-25T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T16:43:30.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I was tagged</title><content type='html'>I was tagged by a woman who I met when we went through a miscarriage together. She is a very strong woman. She has recently moved on to Sucess after a Loss with me and I could not be any happier for her. She deserves a sticky baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the rules:&lt;br /&gt;1. Find your sixth picture folder and in that folder, the sixth picture.&lt;br /&gt;2. Post it on your blog with some of the background of the picture.&lt;br /&gt;3. Tag four others and leave a comment on their blog to let them know they’ve been tagged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture is of me and the four most important ladies in my life. This picture was taken at our annual Christmas get togther in 2007. From left to right, me, Amy, Jennifer, Catherine, and Jaimie. I look drunk...I was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Scq__KMLkZI/AAAAAAAAAEw/YwP-ze4cgVE/s1600-h/halloween+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317273401852400018" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Scq__KMLkZI/AAAAAAAAAEw/YwP-ze4cgVE/s320/halloween+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tagging: Amy, Catherine, and Mrs.KS, and Abbey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-5642442663670616143?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/5642442663670616143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=5642442663670616143' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5642442663670616143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5642442663670616143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-was-tagged.html' title='I was tagged'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Scq__KMLkZI/AAAAAAAAAEw/YwP-ze4cgVE/s72-c/halloween+006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1446229213194629530</id><published>2009-03-21T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T05:37:45.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>16 weeks and a first time event</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://images.thenestbaby.com/stages/wk16_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 425px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px" alt="" src="http://images.thenestbaby.com/stages/wk16_lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now 16 weeks. It is so exciting to see my belly getting bigger and start to tell people that we are expecting. I was sitting at work on Friday after lunch and felt what other women have described as a "flutter". It felt like a muscle spasm that was very light and it did not hurt. Then it dawned on me immediately after it happened that it was Baby T. I almost busting out crying with joy right there in my classroom. I haven't felt another one since, which is normal. But I can't wait until it happens again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-1446229213194629530?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1446229213194629530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1446229213194629530' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1446229213194629530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1446229213194629530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/03/16-weeks-and-first-time-event.html' title='16 weeks and a first time event'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-4884418936533807747</id><published>2009-03-16T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T14:42:10.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My first baby purchase</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://media.kohls.com.edgesuite.net/is/image/kohls/369080?wid=230&amp;amp;hei=230&amp;amp;op_sharpen=1"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px" alt="" src="http://media.kohls.com.edgesuite.net/is/image/kohls/369080?wid=230&amp;amp;hei=230&amp;amp;op_sharpen=1" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my first baby purchase. I mainly bought this because of the one that read "cute but messy--just like daddy". Which is sort of ironic because I can't eat now without making a mess out of my belly. It is like food droppings are sudddenly attracted to the spot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-4884418936533807747?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/4884418936533807747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=4884418936533807747' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4884418936533807747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4884418936533807747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-first-baby-purchase.html' title='My first baby purchase'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-816602933885153973</id><published>2009-03-14T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T18:08:33.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My first belly pic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sbwl8-tzZQI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jXUFy7F9P50/s1600-h/belly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313163389947831554" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sbwl8-tzZQI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jXUFy7F9P50/s320/belly.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have really hesitated taking pictures of my belly until now. I am not totally sure why, but I just felt like there was not much there and with the m/c pregnancy I could not stand to look at any pictures from that time period. I am deffinitely getting a belly although some of my friends have scoffed at my belly saying it was teeny, puny, and someone even called it pitiful. If only people could walk a mile in others shoes.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, here is my first belly pic and I am totally in love with the baby inside!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-816602933885153973?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/816602933885153973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=816602933885153973' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/816602933885153973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/816602933885153973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-first-belly-pic.html' title='My first belly pic'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/Sbwl8-tzZQI/AAAAAAAAAEg/jXUFy7F9P50/s72-c/belly.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-5277176089512600454</id><published>2009-02-22T16:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T16:10:38.022-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A few people have noticed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://images.thenestbaby.com/stages/wk12_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 425px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://images.thenestbaby.com/stages/wk12_lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few people have noticed that I have not made many blog updates lately. It is because I am pregnant and haven't had much to say about anything else. Today we are 12 weeks and our baby is the size of a plum. I was scared to post anything for fear that somehow my parents would find out before we told them. But we told them today and they were very excited. We are very thankful for this blessing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-5277176089512600454?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/5277176089512600454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=5277176089512600454' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5277176089512600454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5277176089512600454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/02/few-people-have-noticed.html' title='A few people have noticed'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-605657220991149921</id><published>2009-01-03T08:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T08:34:47.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a year can bring</title><content type='html'>It is weird to me how a year can bring so many ups and downs. If you would have told me on January 3rd, 2008 that I would start my masters program, stop taking birth control, get pregnant and have a miscarriage all in that year I would have called you a filthy liar. Last January I was not even sure I wanted kids and this January is a completely different story. What a difference a year makes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep saying things about 2008 sucking, but that is simply not true. I need to remember the good things about 2008. There were many. Among the top few would be having a stronger marriage, getting baptized, and spending time with friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said I hope that 2009 brings us the greater joy of starting a family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-605657220991149921?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/605657220991149921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=605657220991149921' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/605657220991149921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/605657220991149921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-year-can-bring.html' title='What a year can bring'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-5725676341110986796</id><published>2008-12-28T02:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T03:00:55.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SVdbstlpmZI/AAAAAAAAAD8/-V51uObS_Bc/s1600-h/Biltmore+285.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284793511452449170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SVdbstlpmZI/AAAAAAAAAD8/-V51uObS_Bc/s320/Biltmore+285.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jay and I at the Grove Park Inn restaurant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SVda970JgBI/AAAAAAAAAD0/H7hN1IpMGPs/s1600-h/Biltmore+284.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284792707817504786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SVda970JgBI/AAAAAAAAAD0/H7hN1IpMGPs/s320/Biltmore+284.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jaimie and Jimmy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SVdaeDD6J5I/AAAAAAAAADs/Qo10qgcFk1Q/s1600-h/Biltmore+278.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284792160006842258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SVdaeDD6J5I/AAAAAAAAADs/Qo10qgcFk1Q/s320/Biltmore+278.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jay and I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope that everyone had a lovely Christmas. Jay and I did. It is so nice to spend time with his family on Christmas. They are the best family I could ever have hoped for. Jay's mom got me a food processor. I do not know if you have ever witnessed a food processor shredding a block of cheese but it is absolutely amazing! Jay paid for our trip to Biltmore for Christmas and that was so much fun and we got to share it with two of our great friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And as a follow up to my Practicing the Art of Letting Go Post, we are going to take a break from TTC for a little while. We need to fcous on other things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-5725676341110986796?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/5725676341110986796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=5725676341110986796' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5725676341110986796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5725676341110986796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SVdbstlpmZI/AAAAAAAAAD8/-V51uObS_Bc/s72-c/Biltmore+285.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1319401744972764472</id><published>2008-12-20T04:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T04:47:23.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some things you may or may not know about me</title><content type='html'>1) I am a pessimist. I always have been and always will be.&lt;br /&gt;2) I was a tom-boy growing up and spent much of my time in a large magnolia tree in my front yard.&lt;br /&gt;3) In the past 4 years my husband and I have custom built a house, sold it moved to a new city and remodeled another house.&lt;br /&gt;4) Halloween is my favorite holiday.&lt;br /&gt;5) I have owned 5 cars in 12 years. A ford escort, buick, chevy cavalier, chrysler sebring and now a honda civic.&lt;br /&gt;6) Though I am a teacher I did horrible in school. Not just high school, middle and elementary. I was lucky to have graduated high school. I now know that it was because I was lazy and did not try at all.&lt;br /&gt;7) I took ballet for 3 years.&lt;br /&gt;8) My mom could only get me to go sleep if she sat with me and rubbed my back.&lt;br /&gt;9) I am very gullible. I believe anyone I love.&lt;br /&gt;10) I hate shaving my legs, it is one of those things you have to do and it is gross if you don't but I hate doing it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-1319401744972764472?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1319401744972764472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1319401744972764472' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1319401744972764472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1319401744972764472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/12/some-things-you-may-or-may-not-know.html' title='Some things you may or may not know about me'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-5182312520641795304</id><published>2008-12-19T11:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T11:47:12.735-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All those who feel happy please stand up</title><content type='html'>Oh, Oh not so fast Kim...&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends called me last night to warn me that another teacher I know is pregnant. It really upset me on several different levels. But, mainly it made me pissed off at my friend who decided it would be best to tell me this information before I "found out from someone else". This teacher is obviously not telling anyone yet since it is a secret and now I have to walk around with this secret information. Not only that but I am not even at school, why share this information with me knowing it would upset me? Why not wait to tell me after the holidays were over? I am so over some people...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-5182312520641795304?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/5182312520641795304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=5182312520641795304' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5182312520641795304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5182312520641795304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/12/all-those-who-feel-happy-please-stand.html' title='All those who feel happy please stand up'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-4261385074007549966</id><published>2008-12-14T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T10:26:28.598-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baptism</title><content type='html'>I got Baptized today. It was a very meaningful ceremony and my in-laws and husband were there supporting me. Also, the sermon today was focused on wanting something in your future so bad that you forget to enjoy the present. The sermon spoke to me on many different levels. It was a great day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-4261385074007549966?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/4261385074007549966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=4261385074007549966' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4261385074007549966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4261385074007549966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/12/baptism.html' title='Baptism'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-4260317765581572827</id><published>2008-12-07T15:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T16:16:45.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My new obsession</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i124.photobucket.com/albums/p14/stephygeneva_photo/twilight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 126px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i124.photobucket.com/albums/p14/stephygeneva_photo/twilight.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i95.photobucket.com/albums/l128/alisa2121/Twilight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i95.photobucket.com/albums/l128/alisa2121/Twilight.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The funny part is that I thought all of these girls were crazy to swoon over this book and the main character. I read the first book, thinking I am going to read this book and see what all of the hype is about. I also thought, it can't be that good. Boy, was I wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this is my new obsession. I can sit and read these books for hours. I actually said to my husband this morning that I was thinking about skipping church so I could read about vampires. Ironic huh? Anyway, I made Jay take me to see Twilight the movie. Of course it was not as good as the book. But the more I thought about the more I realized that there was no way it could be as good as the book. These books could not have come into my life at a better time. Today I finished the second book New Moon and I can't wait to read the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-4260317765581572827?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/4260317765581572827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=4260317765581572827' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4260317765581572827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4260317765581572827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-new-obsession.html' title='My new obsession'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1393520894147803606</id><published>2008-12-02T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T13:14:41.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Practicing the Art of Letting Go</title><content type='html'>The title of this post says alot. I am trying to practice the art of letting go. I have stopped taking my temperature each morning and using FF. I am trying to only use my CBEFM for this cycle. After this cycle I think we may take a break. I am tired of not being me and having my act together because my world has revolved around TTC. It is time to be me again. I am picking myself up off the floor and I am determined to be happy, even if that means without a baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-1393520894147803606?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1393520894147803606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1393520894147803606' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1393520894147803606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1393520894147803606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/12/practicing-art-of-letting-go.html' title='Practicing the Art of Letting Go'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-8443626424325253101</id><published>2008-11-30T06:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T07:00:32.929-08:00</updated><title type='text'>6 long months</title><content type='html'>It has been 6 long months trying to have a baby. I am starting to loose hope. I mentioned to Jay last night that I was not sure if I could continue to do this. My emotions have been on a roller coaster for the past 6 months. They start with hope and optimism, they break down into despair, and then rebuild themselves for the possibility of something great, only to be torn down again. I find myself questioning the little bit of faith that I have. I just read on someone else's blog that they were considering going back on birth control pills and never admitting the fact that they considered having a baby. That sounds like a great idea right now.  I hope within the next few days as my PMS goes away that I can have hope again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-8443626424325253101?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/8443626424325253101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=8443626424325253101' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8443626424325253101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/8443626424325253101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/11/6-long-months.html' title='6 long months'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7309881632698668885</id><published>2008-11-23T16:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T16:37:52.667-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's going to be an interesting week</title><content type='html'>Yep. It is going to interesting this week to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;Monday- Thanksgiving feast day with a bunch of rowdy 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; graders. Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday- said 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; graders will be even wilder and I will have to try to keep them under control and then go to graduate class that night and present a project&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday- clean the house for Thanksgiving and find an hour to work out.&lt;br /&gt;Thursday- Oh Thursday, we will get to that in a minute.&lt;br /&gt;Friday- Recover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago I took over the holiday duties from my grandmother. I was happy to do it and I still am. But, let me give you a little run down of how it goes. We have done EVERYTHING the same at Thanksgiving and Christmas as long as I can remember. Well my grandma and mom begin calling me to plan a month in advance (and Jay wonders where I get it from, ha). Grandma brings her gallons of chardonnay. Yes, you read that right. Which most say "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;whoo&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt; your g-ma sounds fun". Well she is most days. But, when she falls off a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;barstool&lt;/span&gt; in your living room and almost lands on your 12 pound dog, that is not so fun.&lt;br /&gt;And to be honest, I am dreading the holidays this year. I guess because I am not sure how I will feel. My sadness seems to sneak up on me quickly and sometimes without warning. Thursday will be the first time I have seen any of my family members since my m/c. I am also not sure how I feel about that. My m/c was two months ago and many of the people in my life have not had as much presence as I would have thought that they would. I am not mad, maybe just disappointed. My hope is that the holidays will bring joy and not sorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7309881632698668885?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7309881632698668885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7309881632698668885' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7309881632698668885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7309881632698668885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-going-to-be-interesting-week.html' title='It&apos;s going to be an interesting week'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1678906786390659868</id><published>2008-11-09T16:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T16:23:33.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessings</title><content type='html'>* I am thankful that we have a new president whose ideas are fresh and new. He will bring a much needed new life to the United States.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I am thankful that I have a wonderful, supportive  family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I am thankful for my home and being fortunate enough to renovate it the way we want&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-1678906786390659868?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1678906786390659868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1678906786390659868' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1678906786390659868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1678906786390659868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/11/blessings.html' title='Blessings'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-5019331673049892427</id><published>2008-11-02T17:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T17:31:44.812-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessings Time</title><content type='html'>I saw this on  a fellow nesties blog. She does a blessing post every week on Sunday. I am going to try to take on that tradition since all of my posts seem to be negative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am blessed because:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I have a husband who is amazing and will listen when I complain, cry, shout or any emotion I have at that moment. He does not judge me, he just supports me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I have a best friend that will always be there for me. She is an amazing, caring, loyal person. She is my rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I have the best mutt dogs a girl could ask for. They are stinky and stupid, but they are mine and they are the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I am fortunate that DH has an amazing job that provides for us basic necessities and a lot more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* That my MIL is healthy following her kidney transplant last year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-5019331673049892427?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/5019331673049892427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=5019331673049892427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5019331673049892427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/5019331673049892427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/11/blessings-time.html' title='Blessings Time'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7454159308167640483</id><published>2008-11-01T03:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T04:03:27.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Evil Witch</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I have always known that PMS is evil. I think everyone knows that. But, when you are TTC it is downright devilish. Lets think about it. Signs of PMS: emotional, crampy, hungry. And now lets evaluate early pregnancy signs: emotional, crampy, hungry. I woke up this morning and tested and I would be lying to you if I said it was the only test I have taken this week. I thought it was a shot in the dark because my temp went down this morning. And, you guessed it BFN. I was very emotional last night. I love Halloween, with a passion. But, this year I could not even bring myself to turn on the porch lights and give out candy. It was utterly too sad for me. I went to Target yesterday afternoon and went to look at the Halloween stuff that was on sale. They had onesies that said "my 1st Halloween" and all I could think about was how I was supposed to be buying one of those for my baby. I should be about to find out the sex of the baby, not praying over sticks that there will be two lines. If Halloween brings up these emotions, what will Thanksgiving and Christmas be like?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7454159308167640483?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7454159308167640483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7454159308167640483' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7454159308167640483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7454159308167640483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/11/evil-witch.html' title='The Evil Witch'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2922210120791833161</id><published>2008-10-25T04:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T05:49:06.412-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The obsession begins</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Anyone who knows me knows I am a complete control freak. Well, I tried to give up my control issues when we started TTC. I told my husband that I wanted to get pregnant naturally. My exact words were "I do not want to be one of those girls who sticks her butt in the air and has sex at certain times to get pregnant". Well, that happened when I got pregnant the 1st time. I think that has been something that is hard for me to accept. To me, my first pregnancy was almost perfect. It happened the way I wanted it to, my due date was perfect because I could take the rest of the school year off and spend 4 months with my baby, and I would be pregnant in winter. The only thing that was not perfect was the pregnancy itself. It is weird how things can change in a matter of a day. Now that I have had my miscarriage I do not care about any of that stuff, I just want to be pregnant again. I will gladly stick my butt in the air after sex, have sex when my OPKs tell me to, spend only 6 weeks with my baby, and be pregnant in the heat of summer. I just want a family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now 4 days past ovulation and I am obsessing about the possibility of being pregnant again. God, please send me a baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2922210120791833161?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2922210120791833161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2922210120791833161' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2922210120791833161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2922210120791833161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/10/obsession-begins.html' title='The obsession begins'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1354469126185616141</id><published>2008-10-11T03:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T03:45:24.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October 15th</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b104/Mclstar48/1565677239_5f8593ab68.jpg?t=1223721849"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b104/Mclstar48/1565677239_5f8593ab68.jpg?t=1223721849" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7897166669271517727-1354469126185616141?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1354469126185616141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1354469126185616141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1354469126185616141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1354469126185616141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/10/october-15th.html' title='October 15th'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2530900612401943996</id><published>2008-09-28T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T03:24:23.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How church hurts and helps</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Since we have moved to a new city a year and a half ago we have had problems finding a church that felt comfortable to us. A few weeks before I had my miscarriage people at work were randomly inviting me to their church. I remember going home and saying "God, I am taking your hint that we need to go back to church." I am glad that he saw the need to encourage me to attend church before my miscarriage. We tried two before my miscarriage. One of which I love and we have still been visiting. Every Sunday that I go I love the sermons and they have had much more meaning to me since our miscarriage. However, every Sunday brings a sadness as I sit in church and look around at all of the families together. Sundays have been a time of healing, but in some aspects have been hard on me. I guess it is part of this whole process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note, my friend April who was had preeclampysia gave birth at 25 weeks to a healthy baby girl, Ansley. In a weird way her giving birth has helped me heal. Seeing the miracle from the beginning to the birth and experiencing along side her, what she is going through. All the while watching both mom and daughter stay strong and survive, has given me a new hope in all that I feel was lost in my miscarriage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2530900612401943996?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2530900612401943996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2530900612401943996' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2530900612401943996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2530900612401943996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/09/how-church-hurts-and-helps.html' title='How church hurts and helps'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7578319198615675925</id><published>2008-09-21T04:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T04:42:02.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SNYytjSC5EI/AAAAAAAAAC8/QBU07UgL0kg/s1600-h/mexico+June+2008+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248438173893321794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SNYytjSC5EI/AAAAAAAAAC8/QBU07UgL0kg/s320/mexico+June+2008+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SNYyPRYeQuI/AAAAAAAAAC0/fJttme0lDBQ/s1600-h/mexico+June+2008+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248437653692367586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SNYyPRYeQuI/AAAAAAAAAC0/fJttme0lDBQ/s320/mexico+June+2008+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SNYxKibYIsI/AAAAAAAAACs/VTfo6Mo4z4Q/s1600-h/mexico+June+2008+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;My husband was sitting with me the other night as I checking my pregnancy loss board and he was asked me why I don't have a picture in my signature like most of the other people do. So yesterday morning I was messing around on the message board and decided to find a recent picture of the two of us to put on there. The most recent one of the two of us is from our trip to Mexico. These pictures brought up so many memories. First of all, a few days before we left for our trip we decided that we would "let nature take its course" and essentially try to get pregnant. We ended up conceiving on that trip. As I looked at the pictures I did not recognize the girl in them. I was so happy. I had no idea the rollercoaster ride that I was about to go through over the next few months. Everybody says a miscarriage changes you. I don't think I realized how true this was until I looked at the pictures. Here are a few that struck me as the "old me".&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7578319198615675925?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7578319198615675925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7578319198615675925' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7578319198615675925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7578319198615675925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/09/pictures.html' title='Pictures'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/SNYytjSC5EI/AAAAAAAAAC8/QBU07UgL0kg/s72-c/mexico+June+2008+023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-4626074903298884282</id><published>2008-09-18T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T10:06:42.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Normal?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;I keep wondering when I will be "normal" again. I belong to a message board for those of us that have gone through a pregnancy loss. These ladies have been absolutely wonderful. A post came up the other day with someone asking if they will ever feel "normal" again. A few of the girls responded "no". It got me thinking. What if I don't ever feel normal again? I know right now I am not. I see EVERYTHING differently now. Simple billboards or going shopping for groceries will never be the same. I see parents mistreating their children and where as before it would make me mad, now I feel mad, sad, tears, and the need to slap the parents for all that they have. There is another teacher at work whose due date is two days after mine. I litterally had to sit in an assembly with her for an hour today and I wanted to cry the whole time. I did hold a baby yesterday, which was a big step for me. I mean no one had to scoop me up off of the floor. No other situation has made me realize how much I need my husband. Things that he would have done that made me mad before the miscarriage, now do not matter. I have to hold out hope that eventually I will feel better. If I don't hold this hope, I have a very bleak outlook. But "normal" is not me right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-4626074903298884282?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/4626074903298884282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=4626074903298884282' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4626074903298884282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/4626074903298884282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/09/normal.html' title='Normal?'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-9200464117962294405</id><published>2008-09-15T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T10:09:21.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding my way</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Today was very first day back at work since my miscarriage. It was easy and hard at the same time. I went in this morning and panicked a little and even had to take something to calm me down. My students kept asking me where I was last week and I just said I was sick and had to have surgery. They kept asking but I just responded with the same answer. At one point a student who is a snot, came up to me and said "Mrs. T, I heard you were pregnant and your baby died." To which I responded "Sit down". I had prepared myself for some stupid comments and there is no telling how he found out, but surprisingly I thought a comment like that would send me into tears. But I put on a strong face and continued on with my day. After I got over the intial anxiety of the looks and stares from my colleagues, I began to feel like I was glad to be back at work. Several people talked to me about their miscarriage experiences. Which really helped. It was comforting to know that they found their way to their babies in time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-9200464117962294405?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/9200464117962294405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=9200464117962294405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/9200464117962294405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/9200464117962294405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/09/finding-my-way.html' title='Finding my way'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-1554612834809143594</id><published>2008-09-14T13:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T10:10:05.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I have learned</title><content type='html'>1&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;) To speak up and tell my doctors what I expect them to do, instead of waiting on them to tell me what is going on.&lt;br /&gt;2) What to say and not say to a person who is grieving especially with a miscarriage. Some of the worst ones:&lt;br /&gt;It was God's plan.&lt;br /&gt;-So you are telling me that God does not want me to be a mother or that God intended for my baby to die.&lt;br /&gt;Everything happens for a reason.&lt;br /&gt;-Say this to someone after the reason comes along, not before.&lt;br /&gt;Kids are annoying you don't want one any way.&lt;br /&gt;-I am sure I do not need not explain why that one upsets me.&lt;br /&gt;3) To pursue what I want and not wait for a right time.&lt;br /&gt;4) That my husband is the best man alive.&lt;br /&gt;5) I want to start a support group for other woman going through this. I feel like most women get this life devastating news and are just home to deal with it themselves and that is terrible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-1554612834809143594?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/1554612834809143594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=1554612834809143594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1554612834809143594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/1554612834809143594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-i-have-learned.html' title='What I have learned'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-7356041837152194440</id><published>2008-09-13T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T10:10:32.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;What Makes A Mother&lt;br /&gt;I thought of you and closed my eyes&lt;br /&gt;And prayed to God today, I asked, "What makes a Mother?"&lt;br /&gt;And I know I heard him say:&lt;br /&gt;A Mother has a baby,&lt;br /&gt;This we know is true&lt;br /&gt;But, God, can you be a mother&lt;br /&gt;When your baby's not with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, you can, he replied&lt;br /&gt;With confidence in his voice,&lt;br /&gt;I give many women babies,&lt;br /&gt;When they leave it is not their choice.&lt;br /&gt;Some I send for a lifetime,&lt;br /&gt;And others for the day,&lt;br /&gt;And some I send to feel your womb,&lt;br /&gt;But there's no need to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't understand this God,&lt;br /&gt;I want my baby here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took a breath,&lt;br /&gt;and cleared his throat,&lt;br /&gt;And then I saw a tear.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could show you,&lt;br /&gt;What your child is doing Here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could see your child smile&lt;br /&gt;With other children and say,&lt;br /&gt;"We go to earth to learn our lessons&lt;br /&gt;of love and life and fear,&lt;br /&gt;but My mommy loved me so much&lt;br /&gt;I got to come straight here!"&lt;br /&gt;I feel so lucky to have a Mom who had so much love for me,&lt;br /&gt;I learned my lessons very quickly,&lt;br /&gt;My Mommy set me free.&lt;br /&gt;I miss my Mommy oh so much&lt;br /&gt;But I visit her each day.&lt;br /&gt;When she goes to sleep,&lt;br /&gt;On her pillow is where I lay.&lt;br /&gt;I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek,&lt;br /&gt;And whisper in her ear,&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, Please don't be sad today,&lt;br /&gt;I'm your baby and I am here"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you see my dear sweet one,&lt;br /&gt;Your children are okay.&lt;br /&gt;Your babies are here in My home,&lt;br /&gt;And this is where they'll stay.&lt;br /&gt;They'll wait for you with Me,&lt;br /&gt;Until your lessons there are through,&lt;br /&gt;And on the day that you come home,&lt;br /&gt;they'll be at the gates waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now you see&lt;br /&gt;What makes a Mother,&lt;br /&gt;It's the feeling in your heart,&lt;br /&gt;It's the love you had so much of&lt;br /&gt;Right from the very start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Author Unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-7356041837152194440?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/7356041837152194440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=7356041837152194440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7356041837152194440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/7356041837152194440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-makes-mother-i-thought-of-you-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897166669271517727.post-2745116013499641043</id><published>2008-09-13T03:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T10:10:49.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe this time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;I am hoping that this blog ends up more successful than my cooking blog. I started that with excitement too. I began around February and by April I had all but forgotten about it. Maybe since this one won't have as many pictures I can upkeep this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On July 18, 2008 my husband and I recieved the great news that we were expecting our first child. We were shocked because we decided not even a week before I ovulated that we would "let nature takes its course". We thought it was going to take a while but we were so ecastic that it happened so soon. The pregnancy seemed like it was going well. I had a crap load of symptoms. I had a great deal of nausea and vomiting and everyone said "oh that is such a good sign". But I could not shake this feeling like something was wrong. I kept telling my husband "I just don't think there is a baby". He would tell me to stop worrying, as I have a tendency to be a worrier. I never had any baby dreams, it was hard to imagine even holding this baby, and I would shy away from anything baby related. I never even felt comfortable or excited in a baby store. Which is strange because I love anything shopping related. But, I kept pushing that feeling to the back of my brain and kept telling myself that every week that goes by without something wrong is a great sign. I was entering the end of my 1st trimester and when my symptoms started to disappear and was worried but convinced myself that it was the fact that I was going into the 2nd trimester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At exactly 11 weeks while visiting my inlaws, I started spotting. I freaked out and called the dr. Who of course told me it was very normal in pregnancy and that unless I had "period" bleeding that I should not worry, but he wanted to see me first thing Monday morning. My husband was scheduled to fly to Delaware that Monday morning and being the optimisitc one that he is, he kept saying "I really think everything is ok and that I can leave Monday". I begged him to stay. He of course did. At 8:30 Monday morning- Spetember 8, I went to the OB and they immediately tried to find a heartbeat and couldn't. The dr. tried to relieve my worries and said "we can only hear about 50% of heartbeats as far along as you are." They then sent me back for an internal ultrasound. Within seconds I knew something was wrong. The ultrasound tech kept asking "are you sure about your dates?" She left the room and my poor husband says "is that the baby?" and I said "we don't have a baby". When the dr. came in he said "I am sorry but this is a miscarriage". My pregnancy mantra was "I am pregnant until a medical professional tells me otherwise." Well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After talking to many other woman on message boards and in real life I knew immediately I wanted a D&amp;amp;C. They told me I could do it that day or the next. I said that day. We went to outpatient surgery and most things were a blur. My husband was my rock during all of this he called everyone and took great care of me. But, when I saw him cry I knew that my feelings were not just an overreaction. Some of the questions before surgery did nothing but upset me. For instance "Are you pregnant?" How do I answer that? But the D&amp;amp;C itself was by far the easiest process. I woke up feeling like that now I could begin to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even begin to tell you the wave of emotions I have had over the past few days. There have been sleepless nights. Mornings I have woken up crying. Anger at everyone but my husband. And of course like every woman that has been through this I blame myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to create this blog because I am not much of a writer but I am a laptop junkie and love to type. My thoughts can be contained in this internet diary. Also over the past several days I have taken great comfort in other blogs written from miscarriage survivors. My new quest is to help others that have to go through this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7897166669271517727-2745116013499641043?l=bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/feeds/2745116013499641043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7897166669271517727&amp;postID=2745116013499641043' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2745116013499641043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7897166669271517727/posts/default/2745116013499641043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitterpartyofonekimmie.blogspot.com/2008/09/maybe-this-time.html' title='Maybe this time'/><author><name>Kim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18343088844662363574</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_wMqgkngyEV0/R50F3IDaJ9I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vgjfiu3h2fE/S220/pic+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
