<?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-5591423559415058773</id><updated>2012-02-04T22:55:49.034-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A few daily blunders</title><subtitle type='html'>A day in the life of the wife of the Suit and the Mom of Frick and Frack</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>60</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-3634548766935286902</id><published>2008-08-31T20:48:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T21:04:04.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel bad</title><content type='html'>Every Sunday I get an email telling me of all the poor souls that still visit my dead blog.  For those of you that still pop in, should I resume blogging?  Honestly it's a pain in the ass, but at the same time I do like to read back over my entries and see what was going on in my life.  I don't have a diary, so maybe I should start this madness again?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts?  Shoot me a comment and let me know if you miss this silly fodder?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time here are some pictures of the natives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I've joined Facebook, Al and I were talking about it condescendingly and now I realize it's kinda fun.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First up:  Little Miss Hilton Head Island&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SLs_JdsMqWI/AAAAAAAAAGg/V4aM0QcN9k4/s1600-h/HHI+Vacation2+068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SLs_JdsMqWI/AAAAAAAAAGg/V4aM0QcN9k4/s320/HHI+Vacation2+068.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240852023197084002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And her tree huggin' older sister:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SLs9ZJ7QiWI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/X1ujI9iyg8Y/s1600-h/HHI+Vacation2+153.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SLs9ZJ7QiWI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/X1ujI9iyg8Y/s320/HHI+Vacation2+153.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240850093746194786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Hilton Head we stayed in this wicked smashing villa, that I'm certain was way state of the art in 1978, however by 2008 standards it lacked just a smidge.  One really sweet thing was Madge left her glasses there in 1978, and since we were the first people to rent the villa since Madge stayed there in 1978, I happened upon them.  Well I had to look at the world through 1978 colored glasses, and let's just say it looked fabulous!  Here's a picture of me sporting my new glasses showcasing some of the stunning decor.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SLs98-eZrgI/AAAAAAAAAGY/a_1v0x8zJrk/s1600-h/HHI+Vacation+3+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SLs98-eZrgI/AAAAAAAAAGY/a_1v0x8zJrk/s320/HHI+Vacation+3+012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240850709147659778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go on say it, "I look hot".  You so wish you had those glasses, I KNOW IT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-3634548766935286902?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/3634548766935286902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=3634548766935286902' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3634548766935286902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3634548766935286902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-feel-bad.html' title='I feel bad'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SLs_JdsMqWI/AAAAAAAAAGg/V4aM0QcN9k4/s72-c/HHI+Vacation2+068.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-7004441958927036265</id><published>2008-05-31T11:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T11:52:40.306-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My poor sweet child.</title><content type='html'>I've added up the out of pocket expenses for January through today, not including prescriptions.  Between both girls we have spent over $1,100 dollars.  Guess you know where our "stimulus" check went.  Between co-pays, x-rays, nebulizer, orthopedic shoes, etc, we are completely tapped out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R has had since January, a sinus infection, ear infection, walking pneumonia, broken foot, throwing up, mystery fever, three failed hearing tests, constant water in the ear drum that does not respond to medication, allergies, the list goes on and on.  Last Friday introduce Strep Throat.  Yes, one more to add to this poor child's ever growing list.  So off to the doctor we go, test comes back positive.  A day on amoxicillin and she felt much better.  Only missed one day of school.  (bringing our total for Kindergarten to 9 days)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday morning she woke up fine, ate breakfast fine, took her medicine fine, went upstairs to brush her teeth and get dressed, all fine.   Sometime between getting dressed and coming downstairs (oh 60 seconds) she broke out in a horrible rash.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That makes 10 days out of school.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took her to the pediatrician.  She has had a reaction to her amoxicillin. So add to our list, allergic to penicillins.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor sweet girl is now on zithromax (we took that for the pneumonia, so we know we're not allergic), and she was itching so bad last night, no one slept, and I had to call the pediatrician again this morning.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be picking up our prescription for oral steroids today........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures of this horrible rash.  She is amazingly taking this rather well, I know I would not be so happy if it were me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SEFzuChE7nI/AAAAAAAAAGA/CH41Etuw17Y/s1600-h/May+2008+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SEFzuChE7nI/AAAAAAAAAGA/CH41Etuw17Y/s320/May+2008+034.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206569879003786866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SEFzidbFK1I/AAAAAAAAAF4/inI7qXD-Dtg/s1600-h/May+2008+035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SEFzidbFK1I/AAAAAAAAAF4/inI7qXD-Dtg/s320/May+2008+035.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206569680067963730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-7004441958927036265?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/7004441958927036265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=7004441958927036265' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7004441958927036265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7004441958927036265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-poor-sweet-child.html' title='My poor sweet child.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/SEFzuChE7nI/AAAAAAAAAGA/CH41Etuw17Y/s72-c/May+2008+034.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-1152268905857760269</id><published>2008-04-03T19:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T12:54:25.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I had to wait</title><content type='html'>and make certain that my hair wasn't going to fall out...y'know that whole 48 hour strand test that no one ever does....well we're on day 4, so I'm thinking I'm safe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started pretty innocently.  I took my Mom to Ulta on Friday to buy  new makeup for her birthday.  On a side note her birthday isn't until the 13th, but we both agreed, "why delay beauty?", so Ulta it was a few weeks early.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up some notions, Mom picked up some mineral make up and then the girls and I ate lunch at &lt;a href="http://www.salsaritas.com/"&gt;Salsarita's&lt;/a&gt;, a delightful restaurant.  Of course in walking to Salsarita's I noticed a Great Clips..and I always try to get my hair cut at really fancy places, so I just couldn't resist Great Clips, the fanciest of the fancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annabelle cut my hair, she's about 90.  Luckily I only needed a basic trim, so 2 inches later I was on my way.  Back up to just below my chin, looked good, but of course I noticed my roots as she was trimming and I decided to hit CVS to pick up a box of Feria.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had Frick and Frack in tow and off to CVS we go.  I threw caution to the wind and decided, I'm going to get dark brown, not medium brown.  See I don't dye my hair because I want fun colors, I want my color, only without the gray (is that a line in a commercial?).  Whenever I color my hair in about 8-12 weeks it seems to turn sort of orangy...I was not born with orange hair...it's dark brown.  I thought that by purchasing dark brown color, I was staying true to my roots (God, I am so freakin' funny...."roots").    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we get home and it's about 1:30, the Suit is coming home at 4:00.  I set Frick and Frack up in front of Enchanted for the second time of the week, and I hit my bathroom for a date with Feria.  25 minutes later......I shower.....I notice that the hair in my hands is VERY thick....I decide that must just be a fluke.  I dry my hair, it is freakin' Gothic black, we're talking give me a lip ring some red lipstick and I'm a shoo in for a job at  the local used record store!  OMG...WTF....this is "dark brown"?  No, this is BLACK!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I decide to wash it like ten times.  Nothing, still gothic Black.  I decide to wash it with baking soda (now I'm insane...).  Nothing, still gothic black..and dry and brittle.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I stop here?  Hell no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to Rite Aid we go...because you know I can't risk that the $8.00 an hour clerk at CVS will recognize me from an hour ago......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I buy &lt;a href="http://www.walgreens.com/store/product.jsp?id=prod2180463&amp;CATID=304384&amp;skuid=sku2179941&amp;V=G&amp;ec=frgl_596486&amp;ci_src=14110944&amp;ci_sku=sku2179941"&gt;Oops I effed up my hair color remover&lt;/a&gt;  and of course I get extra strength because extra strength must be better.....on a side note, who buys "regular", other than tampons, when is regular better?  Really EXTRA is always BETTER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this product says, "returns your hair to the color before you got all stupid and picked that God awful color".  I thought, this is good.  Let's give it a go.  This stuff smells like crap.  Like those terrible Rave perms my Mom used to torture me with in elementary (yes, you read that right...6 years old and permed!) school.  It has to sit for an  hour...YUCK!  So I waited and watched me some Oprah, not knowing that my next 72 hours could land me on Oprah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wait the hour, rinse it out forever, and look...not the orange of before, but actually a nice brown.  Almost MY BROWN.  Almost.  THIS IS WHERE I SHOULD HAVE STOPPED, PUT DOWN THE HAIR COLOR, WALKED AWAY.  I actually thought that hair color purchases should be like Sudafed, you have to sign in a little book and then ding, "no I'm sorry ma'am you've met your quota for Feria this week, you'll have to wait a week".  I can't leave well enough alone though, while I was at Rite Aid I had purchased "medium brown" assuming I'd just do the same old same old and be fine, or not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Suit came home, liked the hair cut and barely noticed the color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept on it...and then in the morning decided I had a date with Medium Brown.  If your counting we've colored, uncolored, and we're coloring again.  12 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do the unusual..25 minutes, blah, blah, blah.. wash dry....GOTHIC BLACK.  AGAIN.  OMG.. WTF????  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I drag Frick and Frack out and this time we go back to CVS (that lady can't be working today, right? wrong).  So I hit the hair color aisle and buy &lt;a href="http://www.walgreens.com/store/product.jsp?CATID=100661&amp;navAction=jump&amp;navCount=0&amp;skuid=sku309331&amp;id=prod9331"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;this is old school, we sold it at Brooks back in the 80s when I was a checker.  It's tried and true, right?  The fact that is said, "YOU MUST COLOR YOUR HAIR AFTER USING THIS BATTERY ACID" should have been a warning....to me it said, "Pick up another box of hair color while you're at it, what's another ten bucks idiot".  The clerk proceeded to tell my kids "you're beautiful, you don't have to color your hair like, Mommy".  Jerk.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did this one Saturday around noon.  It took an hour and in one hour I was a platinum blond.  I was Madonna.  I was Paris Hilton.  I was so hot.  I was freaking out and had not told anyone of my shenanigans over the last 16 hours.  I was screwed.    So I proceeded to prepare my mandatory hair color, at this point I can't remember the color...the chemicals are getting the best of me.  I colored my hair and it was kinda red, kinda orange, kinda &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDcC9bnRciQ"&gt;Belinda Carlisle in the Circle in the Sand video&lt;/a&gt;.  Now in high school I wanted that hair color...not so much now.  I had to call Tina to get a second opinion.  I was blurry from all the colors...I really needed an objective viewer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "LEAVE IT ALONE IT'S FINE, NOT PERFECT, BUT FINE, DON'T TOUCH IT".  OK...sure.....I went out that night with the girls.  Everyone agreed, just leave it, except for Gretchen.  Gretchen was all I needed.  She gave the courage to open another box of color.  So in the wee hours of Sunday morning I hit Walgreen's and bought me some Ash Brown...apparently the ash is the key.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now....back to normal!  My hair is completely fried...very unhappy with me, but it's brown!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're counting:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut&lt;br /&gt;Color&lt;br /&gt;Uncolor&lt;br /&gt;Color&lt;br /&gt;Uncolor&lt;br /&gt;Color&lt;br /&gt;Color&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few processes......I'm so lucky I still have hair...so lucky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-1152268905857760269?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/1152268905857760269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=1152268905857760269' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1152268905857760269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1152268905857760269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-had-to-wait.html' title='I had to wait'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-4037796253173549452</id><published>2008-03-30T21:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T21:22:30.205-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Superhuman</title><content type='html'>So what did you do today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran to Walgreens at 8 AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I colored my hair for the sixth time in three days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sixth time was the charm and I'm finally back to brown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a shower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made 14 hairbows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made and painted a princess crown hairbow holder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I parented two kids solo all day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vacuumed the living room, kitchen, dining room, and den&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I steam cleaned the linoleum and the hardwood floors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to give the ^*(&amp;(*^(^*(&amp; dog a bath because she decided to get covered in red clay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did 12 loads of laundry and put away all but the Suit's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made chicken broccoli ziti and brought it to the Suit's work so we could all have dinner as a family on his "break"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I showered again with the kids and gave myself a much needed hot oil treatment to my soon to be buzzed ala Britney hair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I "worked" for six hours (read logged in and walked by whilst doing the above and "moved" the mouse)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put together the God forsaken basket for the stupid PTA to auction!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R_A8QbMz8lI/AAAAAAAAAFw/aAeKvIn8BmU/s1600-h/Basket+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R_A8QbMz8lI/AAAAAAAAAFw/aAeKvIn8BmU/s320/Basket+002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183709423980507730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so exhausted!  Seriously..I'm going to crash and burn.  I'll explain the "hair" another day...it's such a saga....oh my, monumental.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-4037796253173549452?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/4037796253173549452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=4037796253173549452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4037796253173549452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4037796253173549452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2008/03/superhuman.html' title='Superhuman'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R_A8QbMz8lI/AAAAAAAAAFw/aAeKvIn8BmU/s72-c/Basket+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-1864989765803750540</id><published>2008-03-14T20:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T20:52:43.802-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye bye pneumonia!</title><content type='html'>Visits to the doctor this week:  3&lt;br /&gt;Co-pays:  $150.00&lt;br /&gt;Prescriptions:  $50.00&lt;br /&gt;X-Ray:  $150.00&lt;br /&gt;Nebulizer:  $200.00&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C finally kicking pneumonia and being healthy again.....Priceless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-1864989765803750540?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/1864989765803750540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=1864989765803750540' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1864989765803750540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1864989765803750540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2008/03/bye-bye-pneumonia.html' title='Bye bye pneumonia!'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-2889299079607435996</id><published>2008-03-08T13:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T14:00:46.857-05:00</updated><title type='text'>35</title><content type='html'>So I really didn’t think that 35 was going to be such a great birthday.  R was sent home from school on Thursday with a fever, and woke up Friday feeling equally as crappy.  I kinda thought that set the tone for the day.  C was also sick, so to say I didn’t have high hopes would be an understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow was I wrong.  I spent the morning sewing Easter dresses for the girls and their American Girl dolls. The girls were really good, just playing nicely in between doses of meds.  My Mom stopped by and brought me iced coffee and we sat and chatted at the kitchen table, which was nice just to relax.  It was rainy and gross, so I really didn’t mind staying in.  I was shocked when the flower van pulled up and Chris and Carol sent me the cutest arrangement of hydrangeas and Gerber daisies.  That was so unexpected and awesome!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Suit came home with tulips and daffodils and Chinese food, and we all just hung in and R read us some books (I’m so proud of her learning to read!) and I was asleep by 9.  Sounds lame, but it was truly a perfect day.   EVERYONE remembered my birthday, by cards, phone calls, or emails, which felt fabulous.  I was relaxed and felt really loved.  Truly a great day.  J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning the girls woke up sick still, so I decided that a trip to the doctor was in order.  I’m glad we went.  They both have walking pneumonia.  R has a sinus infection on top of pneumonia.  C has a double ear infection on top of pneumonia.  Sweet girls, no wonder they feel so terrible.  Considering what they have, they have truly been remarkable.  They are both on antibiotics and R is out of school until at least Tuesday.  We go to the doctor on Wednesday for a re-check, so hopefully their little lungs will have cleared.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes, if I didn’t reply or call you back, I apologize, I’ve had my hands full with the girls, but hopefully they are on the road to recovery…and then my 35-ness will truly hit me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-2889299079607435996?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/2889299079607435996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=2889299079607435996' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2889299079607435996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2889299079607435996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2008/03/35.html' title='35'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-3240417875618373096</id><published>2008-02-24T20:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T21:06:59.832-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch...hematoma!</title><content type='html'>From the title you're probably thinking, "oh one of the girls fell", I would have thought that too, but no, it's me.  I have inherited a nasty genetic trait from my maternal grandmother and my father.  That trait:  sleep walking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a champion sleeper, I love to sleep, I'm really, really good at it, when I stay in my bed.  My mother's suggestion tonight (and she was serious), "maybe you should sew some bells on your pajamas so when you wake up at night and start walking around the bells will wake you up?"  Call me Fluffy the cat, can you imagine...me jingling down the hall?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a few funny sleep stories.  In the summer between senior year of high school and freshman year of college, I was really stressed out (read:  sleep walking like a maniac). I woke up every morning for a week with furniture all over the place (in addition to being fast asleep I also develop superhuman strength).  I'd move my bed, bureau, all kinds of stuff.  One time my Mom found me in the kitchen sorting laundry in the kitchen sink.    I'm also kinda a belligerent sleep walker, if you approach me I get defiant and angry, and deny that I'm sleeping.  "I am sorting my laundry, I PREFER to sort it in the sink!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At UMASS in my Junior year I woke up with three firefighters in my room.  Seems that we were  having a fire alarm in the middle of the night and I slept through the whole thing.  Normally you could be fined, but since I was obviously very much in my bed asleep when they came into my room I escaped a fine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you get the picture.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night (I was not drinking) I got up in the middle of the night to pee (this I remember).  Well I guess I fell asleep while on the potty. I woke up as my arm was getting tangled in the blind on the window above the bathtub, and I felt my shin on fire.  It would appear that I stood up from the potty, walked towards the bathtub (three paces), stepped into a metal basket holding the kids bath toys, it flipped up and hit my knee, and I tripped, as I tripped I smashed my right shin into the edge of the bathtub, and as I did this I reached my left arm out to break my fall, which went through the blind and hit the window, where I became tangled, and then turned, hit the back of my head on the wall, and ended up falling completely into the bathtub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny, huh?  It gets better.  I'm not a wimp with pain, I had 2 c-sections with Advil only during recovery.  I was bleary eyed and hauled myself out of the tub and sat on the edge, looked at my shin (and saw a frightening indentation of the edge of the tub), and called, "Andy I need some help".  So he came running and I felt like I was going to vomit and the pain in my shin was absolutely breathtakingly horrible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked at my shin and felt worse, I wanted to get to bed because I felt like I would be less apt to vomit.  Well I knew things weren't broken because I could put weight on my shin, but the burning pain was overwhelming.  We walked towards the bedroom and as Andy went behind me so I could go through the doorway the pain overwhelmed me and I FAINTED!  Yes, I fainted, smashed my head on the door frame and came too laying half in the bathroom half in the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. WAS. NOT. DRINKING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Andy was ready to load up to the hospital, but I knew I wasn't broken, and I knew I'd fainted because of the pain.  So I made it to bed and today I've been sitting on my ass all day looking at my injuries.  Let's list them, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Obvious shin damage that kills and I can walk, but do better with a shuffle.&lt;br /&gt;2.  A bump on the side my head, thankfully beneath my hair so not obvious, but painful.&lt;br /&gt;3.  Bruise on my knee&lt;br /&gt;4.  Pain on the back of my arm from hitting the window.&lt;br /&gt;5.  Another bump on the back of my head from the initial smash.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this because I sleep walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  have to go now...those bells aren't sounding quite so silly now.........gotta break out the Singer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-3240417875618373096?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/3240417875618373096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=3240417875618373096' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3240417875618373096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3240417875618373096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2008/02/ouchhematoma.html' title='Ouch...hematoma!'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-5725027233298842399</id><published>2008-02-11T12:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T12:49:10.831-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Advanced  Maternal Age.</title><content type='html'>In a few short weeks, I will be labeled "advanced maternal age".  Not really a huge deal considering that my baby making days are over, however it's a label I don't necessarily want.  It's funny the girls of the high school gang have always marveled in the notion that WE have in fact not aged at all since high school, in fact, WE believe that we have improved tremendously since high school.  We talk about how WE don't look our age, how we look young,  how we feel young, how you'd never guess that we're 34.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess that gloating would eventually come back to get me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the last  few weeks I've been noting some startling discoveries, seemingly overnight.  See I never used to wear  make up, now if I don't OMG, I'm really scary, even to myself!  The other thing I've noted, when I put my eye shadow on the skin of my eyelids seems to stay in the "shadowed" position, and then it ever so slowly, creeps back to it's natural position.  I can now see that gravity will be taking hold and that skin will soon not be sagging to the side, but downward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have wrinkles around my eyes.  Now I've lost 50 pounds in the last year, so I've decided to attribute that to weight loss, however, again...just appeared in the last 3 weeks, weight has been gone for a few months.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I officially look 34, soon to be 35, and really I'm not liking it one bit.  I don't look so young in my minivan anymore.  I fit right in at PTA meetings, I don't look like the teen mom.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures for Alison.....I think I started to age in these....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R7CKAudsJ-I/AAAAAAAAAFA/qNQJYN2NdRY/s1600-h/Alisons+visit+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R7CKAudsJ-I/AAAAAAAAAFA/qNQJYN2NdRY/s320/Alisons+visit+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165780517671151586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R7CKQudsJ_I/AAAAAAAAAFI/Tjq0cbl-S84/s1600-h/Alisons+visit+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R7CKQudsJ_I/AAAAAAAAAFI/Tjq0cbl-S84/s320/Alisons+visit+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165780792549058546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other unrelated news, I'm officially crazy again....cookie bouquets for Valentine's Day!  I'll post pictures when they are done....such a glutton for punishment!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-5725027233298842399?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/5725027233298842399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=5725027233298842399' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5725027233298842399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5725027233298842399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2008/02/advanced-maternal-age.html' title='Advanced  Maternal Age.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R7CKAudsJ-I/AAAAAAAAAFA/qNQJYN2NdRY/s72-c/Alisons+visit+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-6375982900939973146</id><published>2008-02-01T07:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T07:55:42.982-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And two months and a few days later, I decide to blog again.  &lt;br /&gt;Holidays--fine, over&lt;br /&gt;New Year--fine, over&lt;br /&gt;January--cold, over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sums it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally had another visitor here in the Southland.  Alison flew up from Florida.  It was awesome to see her, we just hung out, ate way too much, and got to see 27 Dresses.  I enjoyed 27 Dresses, a lot, good flick, go see it.  Even The Suit enjoyed it, so not entirely a chick flick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of you know, R broke her foot at gymnastics in the middle of January.  I'd love to say she was doing a triple back handspring on the beam, but in truth, she was just walking into the gym and tripped on a beam that was on the floor.  No glory there.  She was in a cast for 2 weeks, is not in a goofy shoe for two weeks, then she'll follow up with two weeks of limited activity in a regular sneaker.  She is doing remarkably well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C started swim team and so far so good, she likes it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We re-did our living room.  Painted, new bookshelves/entertainment unit, new curtains, I love it.  We got lots of stuff at Ikea in Atlanta, my new favorite store.  If only Atlanta wasn't 2 hours away, I'd be there daily...such a great place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is it, "see" you in April..or maybe sooner, maybe I'll post some pictures from our visit.....but then again, don't count on that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-6375982900939973146?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/6375982900939973146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=6375982900939973146' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/6375982900939973146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/6375982900939973146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2008/02/and-two-months-and-few-days-later-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-7183310159048740149</id><published>2007-11-25T21:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T21:45:25.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I love</title><content type='html'>This picture&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R0ozKhFwp7I/AAAAAAAAAE4/LuxNDoxSFH8/s1600-h/caroline+11.24"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R0ozKhFwp7I/AAAAAAAAAE4/LuxNDoxSFH8/s320/caroline+11.24" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136974580743710642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Really captures her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-7183310159048740149?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/7183310159048740149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=7183310159048740149' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7183310159048740149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7183310159048740149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-love.html' title='I love'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R0ozKhFwp7I/AAAAAAAAAE4/LuxNDoxSFH8/s72-c/caroline+11.24' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-7699652566956691368</id><published>2007-11-25T21:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T21:06:32.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet....</title><content type='html'>Biscuit.  She's half bassett hound half beagle (???).  The bassett hound part is a definate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we're crazy.  We've had her a week, so far, so good.   She's 9 weeks old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R0op3xFwp6I/AAAAAAAAAEw/Dr_mVrWtdC8/s1600-h/Christmas+shoot+2+038+contender.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R0op3xFwp6I/AAAAAAAAAEw/Dr_mVrWtdC8/s320/Christmas+shoot+2+038+contender.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136964363016513442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pretty cute, huh?  The kids aren't half bad either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-7699652566956691368?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/7699652566956691368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=7699652566956691368' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7699652566956691368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7699652566956691368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/11/meet.html' title='Meet....'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/R0op3xFwp6I/AAAAAAAAAEw/Dr_mVrWtdC8/s72-c/Christmas+shoot+2+038+contender.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-1767005821320904623</id><published>2007-10-30T21:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T21:43:35.360-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I figure</title><content type='html'>That since I'm getting really good at changing my blog template, that maybe I should &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; do a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;substantive&lt;/span&gt; post, instead of just having people check out my template.  "Hey  nice template", now that is a pick up line. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big holiday is tomorrow....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Frick&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Frack&lt;/span&gt; are most excited.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Frick&lt;/span&gt; is heading out as none other than Dorothy (why can I only type that while singing in my best Wiggles voice?), &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Frack&lt;/span&gt; will be making her debut as a super hero.  She has chosen to be Super Girl.  I must admit I like her costume best, only because I made the cape, and pieced the rest together and sewed, way better than &lt;a href="http://www.qvc.com/qic/qvcapp.aspx/app.detail/params.aol_refer.false.tpl.DETAIL.msn_refer.false.item.H144497.ref.GBA?cm_ven=GOOGLEBASE&amp;amp;cm_cat=SPORTS%20%26%20LEISURE&amp;amp;cm_pla=COSTUMES&amp;amp;cm_ite=H144497"&gt;this &lt;/a&gt;one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got my house clean today, it's been a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pigsty&lt;/span&gt; since everyone as been sick, I am thoroughly enjoying the smell of bleach!    Not much else is going on, things are quiet, which is FINE with me, quiet is much better than sick, I'll take quiet any day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-1767005821320904623?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/1767005821320904623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=1767005821320904623' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1767005821320904623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1767005821320904623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-figure.html' title='I figure'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-1485280568287942823</id><published>2007-10-29T07:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T07:16:32.650-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweep, sweep, sweep......</title><content type='html'>Pretty cool!   Now I can get some sleep, because right now I'm officially exhausted! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, Sox!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-1485280568287942823?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/1485280568287942823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=1485280568287942823' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1485280568287942823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1485280568287942823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/10/sweep-sweep-sweep.html' title='Sweep, sweep, sweep......'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-932222980188004638</id><published>2007-10-26T16:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T16:27:11.592-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One for the team.</title><content type='html'>=======================&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Press play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just like being at the game.  Ha, ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-932222980188004638?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/932222980188004638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=932222980188004638' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/932222980188004638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/932222980188004638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/10/one-for-team.html' title='One for the team.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-9018886644564118053</id><published>2007-10-19T21:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T22:05:03.943-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bragadocious</title><content type='html'>If you're not in the mood for a braggy post...move on..because this one will be the epitome of brag, brag, brag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R had her assembly yesterday for being chosen Terrific Kid in her class.  She and one other girl from her class were chosen.  They chose two kids from each class every nine weeks.  It's based on citizenship, respect, caring, etc.  I was so proud of her, she was so excited, and we promptly displayed our new bumper sticker with pride.  Here she is with her teacher and the other Terrific Kid. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RxlgGSd1MAI/AAAAAAAAAEg/nkMRBqEYP0Y/s1600-h/Terrific+kid+30.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RxlgGSd1MAI/AAAAAAAAAEg/nkMRBqEYP0Y/s320/Terrific+kid+30.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123231712263090178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other awesome thing was we had R's parent teacher conference today, and I really wasn't sure what to expect academically.  We speak with Mrs. B a lot since I volunteer about R's social behavior, etc, but Mrs. B did not say much about academics.  I'll admit, we watch the Leapfrog DVD's, and I read to the girls, but as far as "homeschooling" teaching, etc., we're pretty lax.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were told that R is in the top reading group and is ahead in math and all other areas of academics.  She said we should continue to read to her and encourage, but that she's gifted.  Wooohooo!  She did say that R has a tendency to be a bit bossy with the other kids (no...R?), and that Mrs. B is channeling that into being a leader, not the boss, I guess R is responding to that quite well and she feels it is not a problem.  She also said that behavior could be from a bit of boredom with the academics.  WOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that felt so good to hear, I know everyone thinks their child is the smartest,  but honestly I'm a realist, I hated school, did just enough to get by, going into this conference I told myself "someone has to be in the middle, someone has to be average, don't be upset if R is in that group". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was a good couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course C woke up with diarrhea today...because we wouldn't want to have a full 24 hours without someone sick in this house.  WTF?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-9018886644564118053?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/9018886644564118053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=9018886644564118053' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/9018886644564118053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/9018886644564118053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/10/bragadocious.html' title='Bragadocious'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RxlgGSd1MAI/AAAAAAAAAEg/nkMRBqEYP0Y/s72-c/Terrific+kid+30.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-1915416593551019264</id><published>2007-10-11T20:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T20:23:00.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two weeks tomorrow</title><content type='html'>Yep, that will be how long it has been since people were well in my house.   We've have fevers (Including me), &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;diarrhea&lt;/span&gt;, vomiting, more fevers, four missed days of school, 4 missed "well check" doctor's appointments for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Frick&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Frack&lt;/span&gt; to get routine vaccinations, 2 days of missed work...endless refilling of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;humidifier&lt;/span&gt;....endless doses of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;....endless boxes of tissues....and laundry....and soiled bed linens.....the list goes on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sucks.  Poor C is taking the brunt of it this time, she missed school both days this week, yesterday she was fever free (first time in 6 days), although she still didn't look quite "right" I figured her being unmedicated and fever free was great...I figured she'd be able to go to school today.  Nope 3:47 AM,  threw up in our room, luckily The Suit sprung into action and managed to grab a box of almost empty tissues and the kid hurled in that....change the nightgown, check temp, burning up..off to lay in bed with Her Sickness.  She looked so sad and said "Mommy, I'm not going to school tomorrow, am I?"  "No, C, I don't think so"  "Mommy I miss my friends"...and she proceeded to cry herself to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breaks. My. Heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today with a new day the dawn brought R on the potty with an explosion and puking in a bucket all at the same time.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Multi talented&lt;/span&gt; kid.  Another missed day of school, we haven't even had 1 full quarter yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the first quarter.  I got awesome news.  R has been chosen "Terrific Kid" along with another little girl from her class.  They choose two kids from each class every quarter, so out of 24 kids, she's one of two.  I'm so proud of her, they select kids that are constantly out sick...no just kidding, they chose kids that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;demonstrate&lt;/span&gt; good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;citizenship&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;thoughtfulness&lt;/span&gt;, etc.  I will be the proud owner of a minivan with a "My kid is a Terrific Kid at .....Elementary".  And even though I've always thought those things were lame, now that I know what goes into getting such a sticker, I'm going to display it proudly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a  soccer mom.....really, it's scary.    Say a little prayer for C that she shakes this bug, she normally is my fast healer, she's just so sad....I hate seeing her so beaten down and sick, I want my sparkly brown eyed little girl back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-1915416593551019264?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/1915416593551019264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=1915416593551019264' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1915416593551019264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1915416593551019264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/10/two-weeks-tomorrow.html' title='Two weeks tomorrow'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-2000881214653422880</id><published>2007-10-04T10:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T10:40:26.535-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More catalogue fodder for your Thursday pleasure.</title><content type='html'>Oh how I love catalogues!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think these two items are suspiciously similar:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RwT7Cyd1L_I/AAAAAAAAAEY/EaEC_HR79_A/s1600-h/ll+bean.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RwT7Cyd1L_I/AAAAAAAAAEY/EaEC_HR79_A/s320/ll+bean.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117491101924929522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RwT6-Cd1L-I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/nQ-O1BQTbHQ/s1600-h/lounge+around.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RwT6-Cd1L-I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/nQ-O1BQTbHQ/s320/lounge+around.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117491020320550882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sayin&lt;/span&gt;'.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-2000881214653422880?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/2000881214653422880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=2000881214653422880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2000881214653422880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2000881214653422880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/10/more-catalogue-fodder-for-your-thursday.html' title='More catalogue fodder for your Thursday pleasure.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RwT7Cyd1L_I/AAAAAAAAAEY/EaEC_HR79_A/s72-c/ll+bean.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-6654033791611026826</id><published>2007-10-03T22:02:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T22:04:34.597-04:00</updated><title type='text'>That party...</title><content type='html'>So you know that party that we had to sell that crap to go to?  Today was the big day.  R was sent home sick from school yesterday with a fever....guess who missed the big party today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, R. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karma sure is a bitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-6654033791611026826?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/6654033791611026826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=6654033791611026826' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/6654033791611026826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/6654033791611026826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/10/that-party.html' title='That party...'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-1795128158915534049</id><published>2007-09-30T19:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T19:46:57.515-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Photographer.</title><content type='html'>So a few weeks ago, I saw a post on Craigslist about a professional photographer looking for models ages 3-13 to expand her personal portfolio.  Well I emailed pictures of Frick and Frack and she said she'd like to do a session with them. In exchange for using our images for her portfolio and advertising we get two 8 x 10 pictures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frack loved the whole scene, she was quite the model, it was pretty funny.  Frick....not so much, she just was nervous, which I would be too, so this is not her scene.  I feel like a stage mom, but Frack really is good at this modeling thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the photographer's blog, she's got Frack on the header, and there is an entry with a few of their pictures.  Why do I see myself ordering way more than the two free 8 x 10's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kholubek.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.kholubek.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-1795128158915534049?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/1795128158915534049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=1795128158915534049' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1795128158915534049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1795128158915534049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/09/photographer.html' title='Photographer.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-7815255782671509201</id><published>2007-09-23T20:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T20:55:32.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow.</title><content type='html'>So like, who are they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: #000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width="350" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" cellpadding="1" border="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="background-color: #0066B3; color: white; font: 16px/1.1 Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;HowManyOfMe.com&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="border: 1px solid black;"&gt;&lt;table width="100%" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" cellpadding="0" border="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="120" style="padding-top: 2px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://howmanyofme.com" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://extimg.howmanyofme.com/extimages/howmany-logo.png" alt="Logo" width="100" height="100" style="border: 1px black" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font: 16px/1.1 Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: #000;"&gt;There are &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"&gt;7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; people with my name&lt;br /&gt; in the U.S.A.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;a style="color: #0066B3; text-decoration: underline; font: bold 16px/1.8 Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" href="http://howmanyofme.com"&gt;How many have your name?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-7815255782671509201?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/7815255782671509201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=7815255782671509201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7815255782671509201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7815255782671509201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/09/wow.html' title='Wow.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-1766925951376650300</id><published>2007-09-23T20:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T20:35:20.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Content.</title><content type='html'>I guess traveling will make you appreciate home.  I no longer miss MA.  Sure, I visited with old friends, enjoyed a great roast beef sandwich, shopped at the Christmas Tree Shop, enjoyed the beach, but it was closure.  I'm not saying I'll "never" live there again, because I firmly believe in never say never, but right now I'm content with where I am, and I won't be the person that I was when I left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traveling when you have kids sucks.  I don't like leaving my kids, especially with The Suit in tow, I enjoyed alone time with the Suit, but we get that here, I don't like getting on a plane and leaving my children.  I realize this is irrational, and I'm not a white knuckle flier, the opposite actually, but the thought of leaving my kids orphans is not a nice one.  Again, we could be killed on the way to dinner in a car, but somehow this seems less likely (although statistics will tell you otherwise). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we are back.    While it was nice to see everyone, I couldn't help but feel that we're too old to be re-living the Real World, it felt odd, out of sorts.  Of our fellow travelers, we are the only ones with children, this sets us apart greatly, makes you feel disconnected, but at the same time, grateful for what you have.   I realize and respect the decisions of all my friends, and for each of them I know they have made the right decisions for themselves, and they are truly where they should be, but it still doesn't change the fact that things change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like with some, we just relive the past, over and over, while with others we have a present, and we laugh about the now and the future, reliving the past without a present makes me sad.  People age, people grow apart, people lose touch, but for a few fleeting moments here and there you connect with what was, and for those few moments, you are happy, but sad at the same time, because people change, and they lose touch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-1766925951376650300?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/1766925951376650300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=1766925951376650300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1766925951376650300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1766925951376650300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/09/content.html' title='Content.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-8997073807368776019</id><published>2007-09-03T20:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T20:53:07.002-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Shameless plea......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="direction: ltr;"&gt;OK, here goes, R  has this annoying fund raiser for school.  The&lt;br /&gt;kids that sell 15 items get pulled out of class and get to go to this&lt;br /&gt;huge party with a bounce house, clowns, heck there is probably a pony&lt;br /&gt;for all I know.   I think this is a crock and insane, and I remember&lt;br /&gt;when we were kids we just sold crap, and I think the person that sold&lt;br /&gt;the most crap got a "prize".  Something lame like a stuffed animal.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I didn't sell much, but I digress this isn't about&lt;br /&gt;me.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now the PTA has upped the ante, make the poor kids feel left out&lt;br /&gt;if they don't sell their share and they miss out on the special party.&lt;br /&gt; All of their friends leave class and they are left to color alone,&lt;br /&gt;waiting for them to return from the party with faced painted, chewing&lt;br /&gt;gum, and holding all kinds of fun prizes.  Nice, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you know where this is going....I've ordered some magazines, but&lt;br /&gt;there aren't 15 that I want, but the prices on the magazines aren't&lt;br /&gt;crazy, like ten bucks for a subscription.    The other stuff, wrapping&lt;br /&gt;paper, etc, well if that's your thing then by all means, order away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this stupid fund raiser closes as of this Friday, September 7th, as&lt;br /&gt;in four days left to sell this stuff!  Could you PLEASE look and see&lt;br /&gt;if there is anything you might want?    I swear you are all getting&lt;br /&gt;cashews or empty gift bags from this place for Christmas if you don't&lt;br /&gt;order something...ha,ha, but really please take a look so R can go&lt;br /&gt;to this exclusive party, so she's not hounding me...PLEASE.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the link, you can order online, pay online, it's shipped to you, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.innisbrook.com/index_students.cfm?id1=R2453C&amp;id2=&amp;amp;id3=" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.innisbrook.com&lt;wbr&gt;/index_students.cfm?id1=R2453C&lt;wbr&gt;&amp;id2=&amp;amp;id3=&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;script&gt;&lt;!-- D(["mb","\u003cdiv style\u003d\"direction:ltr\"\&gt;\u003cspan class\u003dsg\&gt;\u003cbr /\&gt;Danyelle\u003cbr /\&gt;\u003c/span\&gt;\u003c/div\&gt;",0] ); D(["ce"]);  //--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;span class="sg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-8997073807368776019?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/8997073807368776019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=8997073807368776019' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/8997073807368776019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/8997073807368776019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/09/shameless-plea.html' title='Shameless plea......'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-3375251244829436423</id><published>2007-08-21T21:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T21:55:50.959-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I suppose you want an update, huh?</title><content type='html'>270, that's the number of people I graduated with at Beverly High.&lt;br /&gt;Let us do some math....&lt;br /&gt;270 times 4, 1080&lt;br /&gt;That would equal the rough total number of students at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BHS&lt;/span&gt; between the ages of say, 14-19.&lt;br /&gt;1100&lt;br /&gt;That would be the number of kids in R's school. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, 1100.&lt;br /&gt;That's right 1100 children ages 5-11.&lt;br /&gt;It's tricky to get 1100 little people where they need to be on a consistent basis day in and day out.&lt;br /&gt;It's also tricky when there are no sidewalks leading up a school with 1100 students. &lt;br /&gt;Everyone drives.&lt;br /&gt;IT'S A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;CLUSTERFUCK&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;...I feel better getting that off my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One other thing about our school, we are about 1 mile from another elementary school with about the same number of students, that's a shit load of kids in a very small area!  I don't think the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Swampscott&lt;/span&gt; school system has 1100 students total, let alone in one elementary school!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK....so there was a reason we were paying close to 6k in property taxes in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Swampscott&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough politics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So day one, we parked (dropped the van from the sky where ever it may land in the grass, amongst 1100 other minivans driven by parents dropped from the sky) and walked R into her class.    No tears, just "bye".  She seemed nervous, but not sad.  She just sort of went in, and that was it.  I could have easily cried, but I didn't.  I went to "Tissues and Tea", which was a nice idea, but useless.  You sit at a table and listen to a little spiel by the principal and the PTA.  You're supposed to meet with the parents of  your child's classmates.  The problem being the only other parent from R's class was a man that seemed to forget that he needed to brush his teeth, this year, and forgot to change out of his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;PJ&lt;/span&gt; top. He was really nasty, told me his daughter's name,  N, and I filed it away as a kid that I desperately DO NOT want R to play with.  Then I saw my neighbor, and made up an excuse, and dashed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pick up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like a deli, with your kid being the lunch meat.  School lets out at 2:30, The Suit, C, and I rolled into "the line" at 2:02.  We barely made it into the line, we were almost on the street.  You have a number on your car.  The staff at the school walk the line and with two way radios they radio in the numbers of the cars, you are placed into "waves", fifty or so cars each, (you are getting stressed just reading this, aren't you?).  I was in "wave 3".  So the kids sit in their classrooms and watch a television screen waiting for their number (think Keno all you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Massholes&lt;/span&gt;).  The numbers flash on the screen and your five year old is supposed to A. know and recognize her number and B.  Notice what "wave" her number is in.  Then she is supposed to walk out into Olympic Stadium and find the 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grader holding a flag in the air (think the Olympic ceremony) that represents her wave.  The she is supposed to follow this 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grader out to the front of the school.  Then she is "paraded" in the middle of two "waves", with the expectation that she will recognize her car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R failed this portion of day one at Kindergarten.  Shocking isn't it, considering how clear and easy that sounds, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's R's side of the deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is mine.  Wait in line for 40 minutes with the car idling in 100 (I'm not exaggerating) degree weather.  Suddenly things start to happen.  Cars are moving, you feel like you are at a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Nascar&lt;/span&gt; event, you move forward, get close, start pining for your kid, looking, looking, looking, then all the sudden the checkered flag is waving and you're supposed to "GO".  "WAIT WHERE THE FUCK IS MY KID?  I DO NOT HAVE A KID IN MY CAR!  I'M NOT FUCKING MOVING (think of the happiness of the 500 cars behind you as you dig in your heels because you did not just wait in that line for 4o minutes to leave this effing line without a kid, any kid!).   Luckily the flag waver sees your distress and she says "just pull around, we'll do a recall".  So then you have to park (in shame--we failed pick up day 1) and hope.  So they did a "recall" and R finally comes strolling out, oblivious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully she did not have any clue that there was a problem.  She was "watching the neat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; and looking at all the cool numbers".  "Did you see YOUR number?"  "MY number?"  "Yes, the one I wrote on your backpack?"  "Oh, I was supposed to be looking for MY number?"  "Yes, who's number did you think you were supposed to be looking for?"  "I don't know, we were watching the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; with the numbers." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.......R did not have any clue as to the process.  She does not have a future working in the deli. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her day was fine, so we think, she revealed very little.   She did say that there was one girl that was "irritating".  I tried to figure out who, but that was futile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went into school today for the drop off, (dropped from the sky once again) and informed her teacher that R has no idea what the car process is, and could she please explain it to her.  "Sure".  Thankfully her teacher is really sweet, so that is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our school is neat in that you can eat lunch with your child when ever you like.  Anyone can, grandparents, Dad's, pedophiles, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate lunch with R today (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; had coffee, since it was 10:00 AM and all).  She was pretty surprised.  I sat at her table and assessed the class.  Three children do not speak English, as in NO ENGLISH, again, I'm too tired to get political, but let's just say I'm less than pleased.  There are 25 students in her class.  1 aide.  Many of the kids are less than ideal, but R seems pretty oblivious, I did find two girls suitable (don't I sound horrible), and I told R she should try to play with them at recess "Why? Because she has braids like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz."  "Yes, honey, that's why".    It was funny when I was chatting with the kids I'd ask their names and they show you their "necklace" which was a little badge on string that has their name, address, car rider number, and teacher.  All I could think of was "lost baggage", like what if we lose the badge, then maybe I should tattoo that information to R's tummy..but I digress.    R made it a point to show me the "irritating" girl from yesterday at the other table.  I had to agree, she looked a bit irritating, but I managed to say "Oh, I see". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another little boy in her class, but thankfully not at our table puked.  I had to help the teacher get the kids back to the classroom since the aide took him to the nurse.  As  I was trying to corral this group of wanderers back to their room, I was a the end of the line with the irritating girl.  I asked her name, she pulled out her badge, "N", wouldn't you know irritating girl was the daughter of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;PJ&lt;/span&gt; wearing non-teeth brushing Daddy.  Figures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part of today...I hit the lottery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wave 7, SHE MADE IT TO THE CAR!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-3375251244829436423?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/3375251244829436423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=3375251244829436423' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3375251244829436423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3375251244829436423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-suppose-you-want-update-huh.html' title='I suppose you want an update, huh?'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-704294692386154200</id><published>2007-08-16T21:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T21:53:53.123-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Teacher, met.</title><content type='html'>So that went fine.  It was a mob scene, but it was fine.  R's teacher seems very nice, and R enjoyed playing in the classroom.  There were all of these sign up sheets on the tables, for things like snack, reading, helping copy, room mom, etc.  Well I signed up for a few and kept an eye on the room mom sheet.  Sure enough no one signed up.  So me with the big sucker sticker on my forehead signed her life away.  I'm officially the room mom of Room 2.  I have a feeling this will be a fairly intense undertaking.  I hope to God, I'm not expected to be in the room 24/7, 'cause well....I'm not the teacher...we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Suit had never been to the school, and due to his crappy job almost missed this opportunity too, but he stood up for himself and was able to come.  I feel really badly for him.  He's a hands on Daddy, missing the school tour months ago really bothered him, almost missing Meet the Teacher would have killed him.  Top that off with the fact that this last schedule had him missing Meet the Teacher AND C's first day of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-school, let's just say he almost quit.  The Bitch at work was less than understanding, but he was able to finagle and get both off.  Of course he has to work a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bzillion&lt;/span&gt; "Guilt" hours, but at least he won't miss those two special things.    The girls really are lucky to have a Daddy that wants to be at all of their events, and is really truly upset if he can't.  He's a keeper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C had her Meet the Teacher tonight too.  She might not be as carefree as I had originally thought, I wonder if some tears might be shed on her part come Tuesday.  Lord knows if she cries I'll be a puddle.  God. Help. Me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-704294692386154200?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/704294692386154200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=704294692386154200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/704294692386154200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/704294692386154200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/08/teacher-met.html' title='Teacher, met.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-7183819024280535798</id><published>2007-08-14T21:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T21:42:53.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess it's really going to happen.</title><content type='html'>That whole kindergarten thing, and all.  I really, really wish I was looking forward to the "free" time when the kids are in school.  I wish I was "ready" for them to go to school.  I wish I was counting the days, but you know what:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'M NOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the school today to get R's "car rider" number.  It's like a deli.  Pull up, get in line, then someone on a walkie talkie walks around and "radios" your number in, and then your child sits in their classroom staring at a tv screen that shows them the numbers.  When their number is "up", they get in line, and off to the front they go.    There they are loaded into the masses of minivans and SUVs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They really didn't have that system when we were kids.  When I was a kid I would walk alone in plain sight of all potential kidnappers to the bike rack, enter the combination on my chain lock (1234, so uncrackable), hop on my banana seat bike, and ride the road home.  Sure I didn't do that in kindergarten, it was 1st grade, then it was safe.  I didn't have any real rules about stopping on the way home, I'm sure my Mom would have been alarmed if I didn't show up by 4:00, but really for that time after school, I was free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My five year old will not be free.  I will wait in line, everyday, and I will pick her up.  We'll drive the half mile home (trust me if there were sidewalks, we'd walk...it's not a great road to walk on--certainly not for my baby), then  we'll have a snack, I'll find out about her day, and I'll hold her a little closer, wish her to be little a bit longer.  Wish her to hold her innocence a little longer.  Wish her happy days, and restful nights.  Wish her worries away, kiss her tears, and cheer her achievements.  Listen to her read to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 days a week for 6.5 hours a day, she'll be "there". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R starts on Monday, C follows close behind on Tuesday with her first day in pre-k.  Firsts all around here in the Parker house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know next week is an important week for my girls, I will pretend to be excited, but really I'm sad, I will miss them.  I know they will learn, make friends, and have experiences that I cannot give them, but I will miss them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will miss them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if my Mom misses me, I bet so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a Mom really is a hard job, the hardest I've ever had.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-7183819024280535798?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/7183819024280535798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=7183819024280535798' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7183819024280535798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7183819024280535798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/08/guess-its-really-going-to-happen.html' title='Guess it&apos;s really going to happen.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-9070104436647671429</id><published>2007-08-09T19:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T20:05:19.861-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I had surgery today.</title><content type='html'>In my sister's bedroom.  Gotta love having a sister that is a doctor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had this annoying "growth" on my chest, right at my bra/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bathing suit&lt;/span&gt; line since I was about 14.  It's not cancerous and was the size of an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;eraserhead&lt;/span&gt;.   It's an annoyance.  Not really a "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;skintag&lt;/span&gt;" (I just googled images, they were gross, I won't scare you), but just sort of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;moley&lt;/span&gt; thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the doctor said he'd take it off.  I mentioned it to Dr. Jenn and she said, "I can do it for free". Magic word, "free".  So while the girls were watching Tangerine Bear with their cousins, I was doing my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-op testing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she shot me with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Novocaine&lt;/span&gt;, pulled out the scalpel, and sliced that fucker right off.  That thing that's been on my body forever, looked really yucky in my sister's gloved hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My post op recovery was spent in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;living&lt;/span&gt; room &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;watching&lt;/span&gt; my nephew bounce off the walls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It bleed fairly profusely for a bit and gave my sister a heart attack, and I could see that she was deciding if she should drive me to the office to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;cauterize&lt;/span&gt;, but it stopped, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;all's&lt;/span&gt; well.    Jenn's not thrilled with her work, and is promising a re-do if it scars, I told her I don't care, it's off that's worth any scar! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news.  105 today....guess what?  Someone decided to shit in the pool.  Closed until Saturday afternoon.  Tomorrow's temp, 105, Saturday (Cold Front) 98. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; fine with skipping the pool for a few days, however shitting in the pool is really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;freakin&lt;/span&gt;' gross!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW: The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Shitter&lt;/span&gt;, 6 year old girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-9070104436647671429?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/9070104436647671429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=9070104436647671429' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/9070104436647671429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/9070104436647671429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-had-surgery-today.html' title='I had surgery today.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-4949502828835061616</id><published>2007-08-03T22:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T22:34:30.445-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Phew!</title><content type='html'>So we apparently got a good teacher!  Unfortunately R is not in Ben's class, and we're not sure if evil neighbor girl is in her class (they are at the beach), but we'll see.  Her teacher has been a teacher for 29 years, and she's a grandmother of 3, I figure that's a good thing.  We can get the new hip teachers down the road.  From what I've heard she's every bit a grandmother, always happy, nurturing, etc.  That's what R needs!  Her list of supplies is pretty minimal and we already have most of the stuff, so that's a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R and C both got their ears pierced today.  Funny how life goes full circle. My little munchkins both their ears pierced at the same mall that I did, about 25 years later!  R has been asking for a while, and C was originally against the idea, but then changed her mind.  We went to the mall and picked out their earrings.  I was fully expecting them to back out, but R was determined. She hopped into the chair, and sat there like a champ.  I don't really think she knew what was coming.    The place we went was cool because they did both ears at the same time.  After the "blast" she started to cry, just a bit though.  I gave her a big hug and she did manage a smile when she looked in the mirror at her "diamonds".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I fully expected C to hit the mall running.  She cried for R, but when asked she said she was getting hers done too.  I was shocked.  She sat in my lap and had hers done. She cried more than R, but we did bring her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wooby&lt;/span&gt; in anticipation of the tears.   A few lollipops and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wooby&lt;/span&gt; did the trick.  We were fine.  They sure do grow up quickly, I can't believe the both went through with it.  I was totally fine if they decided to back out, but they didn't.  R loves them, looks at herself whenever she can, she twists them perfectly and is being good about the cleaning.  C, not so much, maybe she wasn't ready, but it's hard to say no, they are 18 months apart, but I feel bad telling her no.  We'll see if they stay in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So school starts very soon, we've been trying to wake up early, it's not working, we're lucky if we get up before 8:00.   Considering that we have to leave the house at 7:30 come school time, this could be a problem......homeschooling here we come!  Ha, ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-4949502828835061616?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/4949502828835061616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=4949502828835061616' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4949502828835061616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4949502828835061616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/08/phew.html' title='Phew!'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-5163404825373015996</id><published>2007-08-01T09:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T09:51:34.695-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nervous excitement!</title><content type='html'>I cannot place this feeling, maybe like when your SAT scores come in the mail, or when the "thick" envelope from the college of your dreams arrives?  I went to R's school today to see if I could pry out of them who her teacher is (under the guise of asking for the supply list) and the Secretary said that the letters from the teachers were mailed out yesterday!  I should know today or tomorrow who will be stealing my daughter for 180 days! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has one friend in the neighborhood Ben, and I hope that he's in her class...there's another neighbor girl that I hope is NOT in her class....of course that Mom is on vacation this week, so I won't know if they are in the same class until next week.....I so would love to steal her letter from her mailbox and see who she has!  Guess that's some kind of federal crime or something like that, they surely didn't pass that law with a bunch of Mom's trying to find out if the evil neighbor is in their kids kindergarten class, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep you posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other exciting news, I've had every orifice violated in the last 24 hours.  Pap smear, blood work, eye test, urine sample, and my personal favorite the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tetanus&lt;/span&gt; shot.  My arm is killing me!    Fun times for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-5163404825373015996?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/5163404825373015996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=5163404825373015996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5163404825373015996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5163404825373015996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/08/nervous-excitement.html' title='Nervous excitement!'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-3600932095858526362</id><published>2007-07-27T21:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T22:03:24.367-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spankin' the monkey.....</title><content type='html'>In the pool...yeah, that's the story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nasty pedophile special needs man (18) with the mentality of a 10 year old and the working body parts of a man was enjoying himself in the pool today, all the while leering at my 5 and 3 year old.  Nice, huh? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm normally queen wimpo when it comes to confrontation, but this "man" has been stalking me all summer, he's very "simple" and normally just bugs me, but when you start working your magic fingers looking at my daughter's I want to rip your face off.  I marched right up to him (hand in his bathing suit) and said, "Hey Preston, get your hands out of your pants, if you want to do that then you need to go home".  "Ok"  He left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scum bag.  Amee (my neighbor who's 7 year old was also the apple of his nasty eye) has decided that if she sees him do it again she's going to say, "Hey Preston, if I ever see you touching yourself looking at my daughter I'm going to rip your arm off and beat you with it". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like that option better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so disgusted....I never leave my girls alone so that's not an issue, but WTF....nasty fucking scum bag, I don't care if you're slow as molasses, get your hands out of your pants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grrr......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-3600932095858526362?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/3600932095858526362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=3600932095858526362' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3600932095858526362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3600932095858526362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/07/spankin-monkey.html' title='Spankin&apos; the monkey.....'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-583448970275369397</id><published>2007-07-10T20:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T20:27:20.295-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yellow Tomatoes = Delightful</title><content type='html'>I was skeptical because they just aren't the "right" color,  I know heirloom tomatoes are all hip and shit, and hell, I ordered them, but the orange and yellow ones.....I just wasn't sure,  however, what a nice surprise.  I'm loving the Kellogg's Breakfast Yellow...it's awesome, although it's a bit like biting into say a purple banana, seems somewhat forbidden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm surprised I've gotten zero comments on ======&gt; the song???  Can you not hear it?  Do you not remember this song?  Heather, Chris, Carol, Sarah????? c'mon.....work with me, are we not back in the Marshmallow stalking Mickey or what?  Humor me people.....sure it was like 20 years ago..but still some colorful memories! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I taught lessons for 2.5 hours straight yesterday, color me cold.  However, I shivered all the way to the bank! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls are loving gymnastics and C has turned into quite a little Mary Lou, she's been the teachers demonstrator lately, which she loves.  She did scare the crap out of me and did some running forward roll today, the teacher looked frightened too and immediately looked up at me in the viewing window....as if I could do anything from two stories, and sound proof glass, away...she turned out to be fine, not even phased. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The in-laws are coming, they are leaving Boston tomorrow at 9:00 AM....I've been taught that when you don't have anything nice to say, it's better to say nothing at all...I'm going with that mantra tonight.   The leave Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been having some "wicked boomas" the last few days.  This afternoon I went out front to take down our flag before it impaled some poor pedestrian, only to see a neighbors inflatable pool blowing by.  Then I saw all 4'10 of Amee running after it.  I decided not to run with her since I was in my jammies and braless...no one needs to see that kind of show, kids live here!  Once Amee captured the rogue pool, she noticed that shingles were blowing off her roof, she decided not to chase them down.  That sucks.  I don't know what the state of my roof is because well....I was braless.  It was so windy my boobs my have blown down the street for Gods sake! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that is all the news in Parkaland, don't know that I'll blog during the visit.........then again, maybe I will.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-583448970275369397?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/583448970275369397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=583448970275369397' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/583448970275369397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/583448970275369397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/07/yellow-tomatoes-delightful.html' title='Yellow Tomatoes = Delightful'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-8983943706204264763</id><published>2007-06-29T08:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T08:51:49.473-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8 Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogtitle"&gt;&lt;div id="21922_kdub1"&gt;8 Things&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  Each person posts the rules before their list, then they list 8 things about themselves. At the end of the post, that person tags and links to 8 other people; then visits those people’s sites and comments, letting them know that they have been tagged, and to come read the post, so they know what they have to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I sleep on my stomach, even when I was pregnant.  I'm good.&lt;br /&gt;2.  I went to three colleges before I graduated, but I still graduated in 4 years.&lt;br /&gt;3.  I scratched a girls face when I was 6 because she would not leave my yard, it scarred. &lt;br /&gt;4.  I put this latest song on my blog because Alison has never heard it, I can't believe that, it was a big hit in our group in high school.&lt;br /&gt;5.  I am the only person in our little high school group that has kids.  Carol is getting married in September and I really hope she joins my ranks quickly.  Preferably 9 months after September.&lt;br /&gt;6.  We're going to the beach on Sunday and I can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;7.  I feel stupid, but I do not know what a Meme is.&lt;br /&gt;8.  I'm not afraid to fly, but if I haven't driven on the highway for a while, I get kind of nervous, on a long trip it takes me about 2 hours to "settle in".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tag.....everyone that hasn't been tagged.  How's that for lazy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-8983943706204264763?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/8983943706204264763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=8983943706204264763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/8983943706204264763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/8983943706204264763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/06/8-things.html' title='8 Things'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-8490534132984819353</id><published>2007-06-28T21:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T21:55:37.730-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The great umbrella caper</title><content type='html'>Al--this is not "that" blog.  Just so you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, onto blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you know the umbrellas that tilt?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RoRjXBpZ_9I/AAAAAAAAAEA/e_ZYrJVvcBQ/s1600-h/tilt+umbrella.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RoRjXBpZ_9I/AAAAAAAAAEA/e_ZYrJVvcBQ/s320/tilt+umbrella.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081295526811008978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well we "had" one of those.  See there is this button that you push and it tilts.  Well ours got stuck in the tilt position.  The Suit was going to fix it, but he forgot and went to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the part of the story where things begin sound like "bizarre news" on Yahoo.  We had a really bad thunderstorm on Sunday night.  The kind where the pool chairs blow into the water and all kinds of bad stuff happens.  So C comes downstairs because she's afraid of the thunder, so she sits with me and then I look out the window and notice it's really gusty.   Then I look at the umbrella and realize that it's really about to become airborne, I didn't want to lose my $50.00 umbrella or my $100.00 table, so I thought I'd risk my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the part of the story where I get really stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decide to go outside in my pajamas and "fix" the umbrella.  The metal umbrella, in the lightning storm.  So it's blowing like crazy and I'm getting soaked, I'm holding the long metal pole trying to figure out how to get the umbrella down, it's in a stand going through the glass table.  Well as I'm trying to decide what to do I can see C in the window watching her stupid Mom.  So then all the sudden a huge gust comes and the aluminum pole just snaps in half.  The umbrella comes out of the table and the jagged aluminum lands on my foot (my bare foot) and cuts a huge gash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I become Mary Poppins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pole is broken in half and I am airborne.    I can't figure out what to do.  I'm afraid that if I let go the whole thing will impale someone, or go through someone's window in my neighborhood.   Then I get the brilliant idea that I'll throw it over our fence and it'll just blow around the field behind our house, and impale someone that I don't see at the pool everyday.  So as I'm half walking half flying to the back of the yard the tilted part of the pole straightens out (think Moses parting the water) and I'm able to actually roll the whole thing down, hence rectifying it no longer a hazard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went in the house, and C gave me her Tinkerbell towel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the headline had things not turned out so well:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greer, SC&lt;br /&gt;Mother of two &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;electrocuted&lt;/span&gt; as umbrella and mother became airborne and got caught in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;power line&lt;/span&gt;. Three year old watches the whole thing and calls 911. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an idiot!  Yeah, that's me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-8490534132984819353?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/8490534132984819353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=8490534132984819353' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/8490534132984819353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/8490534132984819353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/06/great-umbrella-caper.html' title='The great umbrella caper'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RoRjXBpZ_9I/AAAAAAAAAEA/e_ZYrJVvcBQ/s72-c/tilt+umbrella.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-1041941640018492043</id><published>2007-06-21T19:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T20:07:05.883-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A little bit of this and that....</title><content type='html'>Did you know that WE has Kate and Allie on nightly from 7:00-8:00?  That's two episodes of my favorite 80s &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; show!  I've officially broken up with Dr. Phil and switched to the other team, Kate and Allie are now my latest addiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are good, I'm teaching lessons like crazy, which is good, the $$$ is nice.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Frick&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Frack&lt;/span&gt; are swimming constantly and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Frick&lt;/span&gt; has swimmers ear to prove it.  Poor kid.  We took her to the doctor yesterday, confirmation, swimmers ear.  Summer has officially arrived. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going to see the My Little Pony show tomorrow night.  I know you're all jealous.  We went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Carowinds&lt;/span&gt; (like Six Flags) on Father's Day and R is quite the dare devil.  She went on quite a few roller coasters.  I went on one by myself which was awesome, but I've decided that my sister and I need to go without the kids and husbands, we'd ride all day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My garden is still going great, I have had some cherry tomatoes and a few cluster tomatoes ripen, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;cukes&lt;/span&gt; are ready too.  I have on red pepper plant.  I now know why red peppers are so expensive.  I have 1 plant, 1 pepper, and it's showing no signs of turning red.  Sucks up water like crazy, but just takes forever.   I don't see myself becoming a pepper farmer in the future.  I have yet to receive the soil results...that's pretty suspicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll spam you with some pictures since I've been lax in posting.  Enjoy.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RnsQEpxYkwI/AAAAAAAAADg/YTglritXahQ/s1600-h/Hat+Day+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RnsQEpxYkwI/AAAAAAAAADg/YTglritXahQ/s320/Hat+Day+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078670676908872450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we have the ladies enjoying some hat fashion.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RnsQ3JxYkzI/AAAAAAAAAD4/1deAnW_ihCo/s1600-h/Birthday+party+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RnsQ3JxYkzI/AAAAAAAAAD4/1deAnW_ihCo/s320/Birthday+party+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078671544492266290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here we have #1 posing for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Pre&lt;/span&gt;-K Graduation photograph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RnsQdJxYkxI/AAAAAAAAADo/Jjf1K3kHfok/s1600-h/Fancy+Nancy+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RnsQdJxYkxI/AAAAAAAAADo/Jjf1K3kHfok/s320/Fancy+Nancy+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078671097815667474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And #2 sitting on the porch awaiting the departure for the "Fancy Nancy" book reading at Barnes and Nobel.  Yes, I took her out of the house dressed like that....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RnsQsZxYkyI/AAAAAAAAADw/_8FReFO9QDg/s1600-h/Fancy+Nancy+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RnsQsZxYkyI/AAAAAAAAADw/_8FReFO9QDg/s320/Fancy+Nancy+044.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078671359808672546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Proof that she left the house...walking the "Stage" (first I might add) at the reading.  Where did this kid come from?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-1041941640018492043?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/1041941640018492043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=1041941640018492043' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1041941640018492043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1041941640018492043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/06/little-bit-of-this-and-that.html' title='A little bit of this and that....'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RnsQEpxYkwI/AAAAAAAAADg/YTglritXahQ/s72-c/Hat+Day+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-353528814089338090</id><published>2007-06-06T14:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T14:38:00.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Steaming mad!</title><content type='html'>I know I don't blog for like a month and then I come here to vent, nice, huh?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Background, The Suit has a professional job, he wears a suit for Christ sake!  He is treated worse than if he worked at freakin' Target!  He is salary, however the Bitch (his boss) does a weekly schedule, when she fuckin' feels like it.  He is supposed to get his schedule on Tuesday, the work week starts on Thursday, so yes, two days notice.  So say you asked me on Monday, "Hey Danyelle, want to come over for dinner on Saturday?".  My reply would be, "I don't know, I don't have the Suit's schedule".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See if he worked at Target, he'd have his fucking schedule.  So today is WEDNESDAY.....DO YOU THINK I KNOW HIS FUCKING SCHEDULE FOR OH...TOMORROW?????  Nope, not a fucking clue.  This absolutely boils my blood, nothing like being a slave to this freakin' nightmare job.  His staff knows their schedule two weeks in advance, but the management walks on pins and needles around the Bitch.  There are three managers that this woman schedules, all three are miserable because they don't know their schedules, they have all asked that she please give it to them by Tuesday (which I still think is ridiculously late), and she assures them every time that "You'll have it by Tuesday at noon".  Well here we sit....2:32 on Wednesday..no schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to rip this fucking woman's head off.  I'm tired of being a single parent, doing every thing alone.  This all started because I need to take my car in for the AC to get fixed for the third time in two weeks.  Do you think I might be able to know the schedule so I don't have to fucking swelter in the 100 degree heat?  Do you think?  I'm so completely done, The Suit and his co-workers are like scared mice and none of them will go above the Bitch to complain....I feel like going in myself, because really I'm the one that is screwed week after week after week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give up, I fucking give up, if I'm doing this alone then things are going to change around here, I didn't sign up for this alone, but hell if that's the way it is then I'm in charge,  I'm done playing nice.  DONE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-353528814089338090?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/353528814089338090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=353528814089338090' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/353528814089338090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/353528814089338090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/06/steaming-mad.html' title='Steaming mad!'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-3073198855349452949</id><published>2007-05-22T21:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T22:06:17.395-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow!</title><content type='html'>So like three weeks later I sober up, now that is a good buzz!  Don't I wish.  I've just been swamped with the end of school, end of swim team, beginning of swim lesson season, and the pool opening.  The pool opening mainly.  We opened last weekend, and I've had to be the police.  Not fun, I hate confrontation, and being the pool police is just a world of confrontation.  I have to make certain everyone lives in the neighborhood, has paid their dues, is over 16, and has a proper entry code.  Fun times, really, a blast!  Not to mention that people that haven't paid come in and I have to be the heavy.  I've had some less than favorable responses.  All this for free!  Gosh,  I love to volunteer, and get shit on all at once!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok enough about that bullshit.  R graduates from K4 Thursday night.  I'm sad.  I know I should be happy, but I'm not.  I'm not ready for school five days a week 180 days a year for the next 13 years.  Call me crazy, but the last 5 years have been a cake walk.    I'll also miss her first classmates.  I'm such a sap, but these were her first classmates, and now not one is going to her elementary school.  I'll miss Miss Kim, she's been absolutely the best teacher ever, why have a new teacher, right?  I'm so happy that C is heading to this school in the fall because at least I know we'll have contact with this wonderful place for two more years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember my garden?  The one that The Suit wheelbarrowed 4 cubic yards of mushroom compost to from the driveway?  The one where I planted 20 heirloom tomato plants that I ordered online?  The one that we rented a tiller to prepare?  The one that we bought timbers to frame? The one that has been FUCKING TORTURING ME for three weeks?  Yes, that one.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it appears that something is array with the compost, and things are dying left and right.  It's been about a week since the last murder, but for three weeks I was going out nightly surveying the beauty only to wake up in the morning with a huge healthy tomato plant on the ground completely limp and wilted.  I hoped it was some odd dehydration thing, but they never came back.  Dead, Dead, Dead!  Lost 6 tomato plants, 6 daylilies, petunias, impatiens, etc.  It's been fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally called the compost people, at the begging of my neighbors that were really getting sick of hearing me piss and moan every day, seems that my compost might not have been blended.  To me that means nothing, but to my poor plants, that means straight shots of nitrogen.  Excellent.  They took a soil sample and mailed it off, so we'll see.  Like I said it's been about a week, so I'm hopeful that I can close off this chapter in gardening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One good thing, we got lots of broccoli, it's pretty neat, going out cutting off a huge chunk of broccoli, eating it.  Fun.  Assuming my tomatoes and cukes make it, that will be the best!  The girls love it, R gets so excited finding the veggies, "Look Mama, a YELLOW!!!"  That's yellow squash to you and I.  It's neat to see them get excited about stuff like that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's the update, fairly boring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-3073198855349452949?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/3073198855349452949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=3073198855349452949' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3073198855349452949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3073198855349452949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/05/wow.html' title='Wow!'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-3006662268456406000</id><published>2007-05-06T20:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T20:59:04.547-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Drunk, drunk, drunk....</title><content type='html'>That's all.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Sunday to you, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pool cleaning with the neighbors has driven me to the bottle.  It's amazing I can still type......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll update more later, when I'm more coherent.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Absolut...you're my friend......oh and a little Ruby Red too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow will be a hangover day...I can feel it now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-3006662268456406000?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/3006662268456406000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=3006662268456406000' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3006662268456406000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3006662268456406000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/05/drunk-drunk-drunk.html' title='Drunk, drunk, drunk....'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-5856715932502478128</id><published>2007-04-19T22:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T08:20:21.908-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And while we're at it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I think this would fall under a public service announcement.  Seems that the One Step Ahead cataloge has come up with some handy new products for us parents of the world.  I couldn't just see these wonderful finds without sharing with you, my adoring public.  Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning your attention to page 18 of the cataloge.  This amazing light allows you to "get the job done without waking baby".  Now I'm noticing that in this picture baby is in fact, awake.  Maybe this mommy wore her clip on robe light a little high on the collar?  Maybe a lower placement would have allowed her to "get the job done".  Still a nifty gadget, I'm sure it will provide hours of changing pleasure for both Mommy and Daddy.  Just be careful to remove this light when running out to the driveway to grab the paper, wouldn't want your neighbors to think you are a FREAK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/Rigibq8ZV2I/AAAAAAAAADI/LJXhIdCih6M/s1600-h/hands+free.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/Rigibq8ZV2I/AAAAAAAAADI/LJXhIdCih6M/s320/hands+free.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055328440502802274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ahh...page 36, "Make baby's first steps safer". What a great idea!  I could hardly bare the thought of leaning down to hold my little one's hands for those "walking lessons".  Now you too can give birth and raise your very own Pinocchio!    I think I'll order a few and change my name to Gepetto. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/Riginq8ZV4I/AAAAAAAAADY/tJfd3X2DVFM/s1600-h/walking+wings.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/Riginq8ZV4I/AAAAAAAAADY/tJfd3X2DVFM/s320/walking+wings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055328646661232514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And last but not least, on page 27, "Make bathtime safer".  This truly amazing product takes the mission of obtaining baby soap on your hand while holding the baby safely.  Just place your hand under this product and magically soap appears on your hand!  I for one know how incredibly arduous it was to do this task with one hand!  An added bonus imagine the fun the toddler in your house will have with this product should you mistakenly leave it in the bathtub.  Soap for All! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So rush out and order these products, I expect there to be some difficulty in obtaining them once everyone reads my review.  Hurry...go.....now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/Rigifq8ZV3I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ZxDCVZ6AfVw/s1600-h/safe+bathtime.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/Rigifq8ZV3I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ZxDCVZ6AfVw/s320/safe+bathtime.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055328509222279026" 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/5591423559415058773-5856715932502478128?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/5856715932502478128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=5856715932502478128' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5856715932502478128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5856715932502478128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/04/and-while-were-at-it.html' title='And while we&apos;re at it.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/Rigibq8ZV2I/AAAAAAAAADI/LJXhIdCih6M/s72-c/hands+free.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-4471750432076368806</id><published>2007-04-19T20:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T21:05:45.817-04:00</updated><title type='text'>As promised for Susie Q.</title><content type='html'>Let's travel down memory lane, shall we?  Let us begin in the third grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigILK8ZVrI/AAAAAAAAABw/nDXxtdKoqB4/s1600-h/3rd+grade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigILK8ZVrI/AAAAAAAAABw/nDXxtdKoqB4/s320/3rd+grade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055299569732638386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:12;"  &gt;I bet you're wondering how I have two children having obviously had a sex change. No, that is actually a girl. Scary....I loved my "wings". And I remember that shirt, I looked like quite the strapping young man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:12;"  &gt;So we moved two years later, and thankfully we moved into a neighborhood with some girls, my hair grew. This next picture was taken in Florida at my grandparents house. I was doing some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Breck&lt;/span&gt; hair &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;commercial&lt;/span&gt;. That isn't the important thing to note, note the awesome iron on transfer t-shirt with E.T. Now that's cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigI468ZVsI/AAAAAAAAAB4/OXjj0YVLGwU/s1600-h/et.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigI468ZVsI/AAAAAAAAAB4/OXjj0YVLGwU/s320/et.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055300355711653570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; this next one is disturbing on a few levels.  See I'm wearing a Panama Jack t-shirt.  That's scary, as are my Nair short shorts.  Now looking more closely you'll see my Mom smiling demonically as she readies herself to cook on the old gas grill.  Sure scary, but then you notice my sister crouching next to said gas grill, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;assumingly&lt;/span&gt; throwing in a lit match.  I was in 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade.  I remember doing this task for my Mom too, she was too scared to throw the match in the grill, so she'd summon us.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;....questionable parenting, but it was the 80s after all. Not my sister's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;rockin&lt;/span&gt;' hair.   She was H O T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJIK8ZVtI/AAAAAAAAACA/P1lj_H7Ztws/s1600-h/family+bbq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJIK8ZVtI/AAAAAAAAACA/P1lj_H7Ztws/s320/family+bbq.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055300617704658642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here' I am modeling in the bushes.  Speaking of H O T.  I vividly recall my sister and I taking this picture.  We were going to win modeling contracts from Teen Beat.  After, of course, we spent our millions from those contests where we drew that turtle.  Now that's where the real  money is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJt68ZV1I/AAAAAAAAADA/Tlr2fR-OtT4/s1600-h/seventh+grade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJt68ZV1I/AAAAAAAAADA/Tlr2fR-OtT4/s320/seventh+grade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055301266244720466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My Mom went to Essex Aggie for hairstyling.  Can you tell that she was really popular with my sister and I, and her friend Wendy?  She was really amazing at the Rave Spiral Perm.  I know you're all jealous.  This was right around the time that I found Sun In.  Or Orange In in my case.   BTW I loved this dress, cap sleeves and all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJRq8ZVvI/AAAAAAAAACQ/kASAQZYpWgg/s1600-h/eight+grade+jenns+grad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJRq8ZVvI/AAAAAAAAACQ/kASAQZYpWgg/s320/eight+grade+jenns+grad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055300780913415922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is eight grade.  I think I look fairly  normal, barring my patriotic choice of clothes.  It's funny, as you'll see I look like this A LOT.  I wish my arms were that thin now.  Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJNK8ZVuI/AAAAAAAAACI/kzRzCxhIlvc/s1600-h/eight+grade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJNK8ZVuI/AAAAAAAAACI/kzRzCxhIlvc/s320/eight+grade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055300703604004578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh dear!  I've lost the bangs, forgotten to do the eyebrows, and gone REALLY BOLD in the clothing department!  I loved this shirt, it was Polo and I got it a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Filene's&lt;/span&gt; Basement, circa year when Leah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Deveau&lt;/span&gt; worked there and stole things on a daily basis.  She was an unfortunate girl, and she was a bitch for not telling me to ditch the horizontal stripes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJYK8ZVwI/AAAAAAAAACY/bPXgaXZLCHU/s1600-h/junior+year.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJYK8ZVwI/AAAAAAAAACY/bPXgaXZLCHU/s320/junior+year.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055300892582565634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt; the not so Nuclear Family.  See anyone missing from this shot?  This starts the red years.  Someone must have said I looked good in red, because I wore it to death.  Sad that I'm the one that looks good in this picture.  Would you look at my Mom's hair, and she looks like she's got a nasty piece of meat in her mouth and she needs a napkin.  And my sister.....oh Jenn, Jenn, Jenn....the hair.  Makes me feel good about my flat do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJgq8ZVyI/AAAAAAAAACo/sm3d57hGNN8/s1600-h/family+portrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJgq8ZVyI/AAAAAAAAACo/sm3d57hGNN8/s320/family+portrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055301038611453730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here we go with the red again.  This is my senior picture.  I was 17 in this picture.  That was 17 years ago.  I don't look much different today.  At our 10 year reunion they had this picture on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;name tag&lt;/span&gt;.  I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt; because I looked exactly the same.  I hate that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;guido&lt;/span&gt; gold chain around my neck.  Yucky!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJkq8ZVzI/AAAAAAAAACw/SaD0pI4Xtrw/s1600-h/senior+picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJkq8ZVzI/AAAAAAAAACw/SaD0pI4Xtrw/s320/senior+picture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055301107330930482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here we are in my nautical phase.  This is Jenn's graduation from college.  With my sailor dress and my Mom's horrible dress, we are not looking like the beautiful family.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Unfortunate&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;clothing&lt;/span&gt; choices, all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJdK8ZVxI/AAAAAAAAACg/eGdOoUBDTEY/s1600-h/jenns+grad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJdK8ZVxI/AAAAAAAAACg/eGdOoUBDTEY/s320/jenns+grad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055300978481911570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And who could forget the dress?  I had this lovely piece &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;specifically&lt;/span&gt; made by Susan &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Wonderly&lt;/span&gt; herself.  The damn thing fell apart mid prom.  That ruffle on the top became a tray, and I could have served &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;hor'doeurves&lt;/span&gt; to the other prom goers.  Luckily there was a sweetheart neckline underneath, or I would have been in trouble.    Heather, Chris, Carol, Alison, and Sarah I'm calling you all out...why didn't you tell me that Mick was not attractive?  What did I ever see in him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJpq8ZV0I/AAAAAAAAAC4/VOwAbqlwrn0/s1600-h/senior+prom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigJpq8ZV0I/AAAAAAAAAC4/VOwAbqlwrn0/s320/senior+prom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055301193230276418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And that, my friends, will conclude my walk down memory lane.  See Suzanne, you're not the only one with skeletons!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-4471750432076368806?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/4471750432076368806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=4471750432076368806' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4471750432076368806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4471750432076368806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/04/as-promised-for-susie-q.html' title='As promised for Susie Q.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RigILK8ZVrI/AAAAAAAAABw/nDXxtdKoqB4/s72-c/3rd+grade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-4858515608266193585</id><published>2007-04-05T20:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T21:01:24.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Suit.</title><content type='html'>So the Suit is officially only one year younger than me again.  This 3.5 weeks of me being 2 years older really needs to end.  Nah..nah...you're 34, I'm only 32....nah, nah, nah...well welcome to 33 Buddy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I'm feeling a bit glum for the Suit today.  See he's been in a crap job situation for sometime, and it just gets worse and worse.  He's always having to sign and pass on birthday cards in his insane club, but he went unrecognized today.  That's just crap.  Apparently there is a birthday "list" on the cork board, guess no one has looked at it lately.  I hope it was an oversight, but still that just sucks.    He interviewed for a new job about a month ago, and we're still in "waiting", he deserves this job, the interview went great, but it's one of those not really sure if there is a job situations.  He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;casually&lt;/span&gt; mentioned to a guy from another club that he was looking and the guy said to send over his resume.  He did, Guy called, Suit interviewed, went great, I'll call in a week or two, no call, Suit sees Guy at work, Guy seeks him out all friendly "I'll call you Suit".  That was over a week ago, again, no call.  It's like some cruel  joke, toying with the Suit.    Truly though this guy is genuinely nice, not a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;screwer&lt;/span&gt;, so I'm guessing that there isn't a job yet, but when and if there is the Suit will be tapped.   Not a fun way to wait, every day "Did the Guy call?"  Breaks my heart to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;continuously&lt;/span&gt; say "No.".  Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out to dinner last night to celebrate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;since&lt;/span&gt; he's working the next 6 nights...did I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;mention&lt;/span&gt; he loves his job?  We went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Bonefish&lt;/span&gt;, it was good, I had tuna.  Then we went to see Reign Over Me.     The Adam &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Sandler&lt;/span&gt; movie about losing his family in 9/11.  I knew it was not a comedy it wasn't horrible, but a bit draggy, I think I was expecting more of a 9/11 story and that was really a very minor part of the movie.  I did however find Liv Tyler to be adorable, I think if I was going to switch to the other team I'd go for her, she's quite stunning.  Amazing that her dad is Steven Tyler, she seems so not like Steven Tyler's daughter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R  has been on spring break this week.  I've had no soccer and no swim team.  I'm beginning to see what life would be like without those activities....NICE!  Oh well.  R has been driving me nuts though, she needs activity, every day, "Is it school today?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been gardening like mad.  It's been in the 80s so on Monday I planted my cucumbers, zucchini, summer squash, and two heirloom tomato plants.  Yahoo....you say.  Fucking frost tonight!  Damned frost, frost and 80 degrees in the same week.  What is that shit?  So I tucked my plants in tonight, I think I lost come cucumbers last night, luckily those are easy enough to grow, I'm praying I don't lose my tomatoes.  I got my tomato plant order today, I ordered 18 heirloom plants.  I think the FedEx guy played volleyball with the box, a few didn't fare too well, I might have some replacements on the way because of the transit "issues". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to save seeds from all my plants this year so I can start my own next year, $60.00 bucks for 18 plants is a bit pricey.  I did start some plants of my own however!   Have you ever had &lt;a href="http://www.camparitomatoes.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Campari&lt;/span&gt; Tomatoes&lt;/a&gt; ?  They are like $40.00 for like 8 tomatoes, but they are the most delicious tomatoes, especially in the winter when all tomatoes taste like crap.  Well I saved some seeds from one and now I have six little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Campari&lt;/span&gt; Tomato plants growing.  I feel very Martha with my little harem of plants growing.  I have a feeling that this gardening thing is going to get out of hand, what with 26 tomato plants and all.  The Suit thinks I should just till up the whole yard and start a farm.  Maybe next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a very funny blog in my head, I need to get to a scanner....yes, it's one of "those".  Maybe this weekend.....that is if you're all good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-4858515608266193585?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/4858515608266193585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=4858515608266193585' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4858515608266193585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4858515608266193585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/04/happy-birthday-suit.html' title='Happy Birthday, Suit.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-7325541908367507987</id><published>2007-03-28T19:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T19:58:12.308-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mobile Memorials</title><content type='html'>This has been a blog in my head for weeks....I just now am getting a moment to share it with you lucky readers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In Loving Memory of........"  Have you seen &lt;a href="http://www.customlabels4u.com/decals-memory.shtml?gclid=CK_7l9nUmIsCFR8zSgod6Vq4Rw"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt;?  Now my question is, did the car belong to the person?  Is that why it's still living on "in memory"?  Because really, I don't want a mobile tombstone, if I die tomorrow, you all have these instructions, closed casket, comfortable clothes, flip flops, please, and no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hearse&lt;/span&gt;.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but notice that the people with these ridiculous memorial stickers on their cars are scum bags.  Now when do you decide to take it off?  Do you feel really guilty when your like "To hell with Mama, I need to see out of my back &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;windershield&lt;/span&gt;!"    I wonder this everyday, because I see these everyday! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just some thoughts for you to ponder.  &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-7325541908367507987?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/7325541908367507987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=7325541908367507987' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7325541908367507987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7325541908367507987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/03/mobile-memorials.html' title='Mobile Memorials'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-5694713102200102219</id><published>2007-03-26T08:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T08:30:53.540-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Girl.</title><content type='html'>Five years ago today, I became a Mommy.  Time flies, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R was supposed to be coaxed (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; induced) out on March 24, I had been going to the hospital the whole week before to "ripen" my cervix, I wasn't due until March 27&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, but they were preparing me early as they were afraid with gestational diabetes that R might be too big. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll all the ripening in the world was not going to prepare my cervix, but Dr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Vietch&lt;/span&gt; decided to go forward with the induction on 3/24, a Sunday.   We were excited and completely prepared.  Well we were to arrive at the hospital at 8:00 AM, the phone rang at 6:00 AM, induction "off", "we're too busy.''  I was so angry, they tried to reschedule for 3/25, but I refused, that was The Suit's Dad's birthday.  So Dr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Vietch&lt;/span&gt; personally called me to find out why I didn't want to come in on the 25&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, and she knew not to argue with a pregnant woman that just had a canceled induction, we were scheduled for the 26&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, a Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a million "did she have the baby" calls, we headed into Beverly Hospital for a 7:00 AM induction.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Pitocin&lt;/span&gt; was started (felt nothing).  I had my water broken, which I will remember was the oddest sensation in my life.  Then I had one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;noticeable&lt;/span&gt; contraction and hopped on the epidural train.    R never dropped, we never progressed I think we got to 3 cm, and at 9:00 PM, Dr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Schreiber&lt;/span&gt; (the on call Dr. and Head of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Obstetrics&lt;/span&gt;) made &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; call that if there wasn't progress by 10:00 PM, we'd have a c-section.  He also said that saying that often "scares" the baby out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we waited for an hour, called everyone to let them know of the possible outcome, and waited.  He came in and sure enough, no progress. Then things got crazy.  Nurses were literally jumping out of the walls to prep for the c-section, shaving, all kinds of less that known things were happening.  The Suit was sent out of the room and given a jump Suit to prepare for the birth of our first child. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wheeled into the OR, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;anesthesiologist &lt;/span&gt;became my enemy.  I had a terrible reaction to the  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;, and was shaking, dry heaving, etc.  I felt horrible.  I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;strapped&lt;/span&gt; on the table like Jesus on the cross, to say I felt exposed was an understatement.  Then the section began.  My sister had warned the Suit not to look over the curtain, and he did not.  Then very quickly Dr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Schreiber&lt;/span&gt; said, "Danyelle you'll feel some pressure and some tugging".  That grossed me out, but it was an accurate statement.  Pushing and tugging, and I became a Mom! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get to see R right away, they whisked her to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;isolette&lt;/span&gt; and she was shielded from my view by nurses and the doctor.  She was fine, but that is the process in a c-section, no baby on your chest, no holding up.  That made me sad. The Suit stayed by my side the whole time, he wanted to see R too, but he kept vigil.  Then they were taking care of me and what seemed like forever, R was held over my face.  She was beautiful.   I began to cry, it was over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Suit and R went up to the nursery to get her cleaned up.  The nurse left him in the hall for a moment, and he thought that meant he was to take R to the nursery.  So in the elevator they went, father and daughter, alone.   They were met at the next floor with an out of breath nurse, she ran the stairs, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt; the Suit and R weren't to have their alone moment just yet.  Oops. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So R was taken care of in the nursery and I was sent to recovery.  I waited alone for a long time.  I felt sad, I hadn't been alone in nine months and then after a failed induction, I had my baby taken from me and I was alone in a room, "recovering".  I worried about breastfeeding because all I had read said to start early, where was my baby?  Then finally the Suit and R came back and we began breastfeeding.  I was lost, I thought it was going fine, but  had no clue what I was doing.    We finally got our own room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the room we really got to see R, it was like unwrapping a present, that you don't want to share with anyone.  We hadn't yet seen her fingers and toes.  So alone, in our room, we began to take a peek at our new baby.  We didn't want to ruin the swaddle but we did.  1o fingers........10 toes......what's that mark?....oh a stork bite........she was long.......and thin.......she had a tiny bit of fine hair.......she smelled wonderful........she was perfect.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she still is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday, Sweet R.  I love you and I love that you made me a Mommy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-5694713102200102219?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/5694713102200102219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=5694713102200102219' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5694713102200102219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5694713102200102219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/03/sweet-girl.html' title='Sweet Girl.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-2976202906585620932</id><published>2007-03-24T18:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T19:19:41.125-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Heat wave, fevers, butterflies, bunnies, eggs, and birthdays.</title><content type='html'>So we're having a bit of a heat wave here in sunny Upstate SC.  We've hit 80+ the last two days and tomorrow promises another 85 day.  I know all you NE friends are cursing me right now, but wait...it gets better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a big weekend in the Parker House.  Today was the annual neighborhood Easter Egg Hunt, tomorrow is R's &lt;a href="http://www.pumpitupparty.com/"&gt;Pump It Up&lt;/a&gt; 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday party, I had to make 25 butterfly cookie favors (more on that Martha episode to come), and the Suit is feverishly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;preparing&lt;/span&gt; R's two tier cake with an Under the Sea theme.  Times are busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, sometimes things just don't go as you plan.  Like I really hadn't planned on being in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart this morning at 5:00 AM, really, that was not in the plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems that R and C have some peculiar fever, which is accompanied with an odd pain on the roof of the mouth (I know this symptom because suddenly this evening I've developed it).  Started Friday night, and I was hoping it was just a Mystery Fever that would resolve itself by morning.  Dosed them with Tylenol and Motrin, and sent them to bed.  They did go to sleep, but then R woke up at 3:00 AM with "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Frow&lt;/span&gt; up in her bed".  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;......great timing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the Suit cleaned the bed, I cleaned the furnace, and we all climbed into our bed to watch a little Nick at Night Cosby Show marathon.  Good times.  We'll R was producing a lot of heat, so we re-dosed the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;, woke up the baby sister, dosed her, and then back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well R did not sleep.  Nor did I, so I had to go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart to get last minute party stuff, so 5:00 AM seemed logical to me.  So $75.00 later, with the Chicken Little DVD I arrived home at 6:00...thankfully Noggin starts at 6:00 AM, put &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Frick&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Frack&lt;/span&gt; on the couch with puffs, sprites, and pillows and went for my Saturday morning walk with Tina.  That was actually good considering I knew what my day would most likely hold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got home, kids were asleep, did laundry, wrapped the cookies, and created this masterpiece!    I'm quite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;braggy&lt;/span&gt; and proud of myself so feel free to tell me to stop being a bragger.    I came up with the idea, the Suit made the cookies and baked them,   I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;decorated&lt;/span&gt;,, bagged, assembled, carded, etc.  They are the favors for R's party, because I detest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;goodie&lt;/span&gt; bags with fruit snacks, pencils, erasers, and little nickel tracing things.    I decided I had to be "different".  They look awesome, but I get the kids will be disappointed that they don't get that Bag 'O Shit,  don't care.  The tags say:  "Thank you for sharing my 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday.  Love RC"   I considered having it say, "Thanks for coming to my party, hope you had fun, a treat for you as you go home to fight the flu.  Love, RC"  Decided against it, let it be a surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RgWv8PSem0I/AAAAAAAAABU/H6BRQmVqo9s/s1600-h/Butterfly+bouquet+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RgWv8PSem0I/AAAAAAAAABU/H6BRQmVqo9s/s320/Butterfly+bouquet+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045632406969555778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RgWwQvSem1I/AAAAAAAAABc/1lUlzuLKM9M/s1600-h/Butterfly+bouquet+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RgWwQvSem1I/AAAAAAAAABc/1lUlzuLKM9M/s320/Butterfly+bouquet+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045632759156874066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After assembling my masterpiece (BTW the cookies are on lollipop sticks, hence the"bouquet", I checked the temps (99-100), put them in the tub, ironed their dresses, fed them lunch, and off to the Egg Hunt we went.  Figured we should share the "illness" with 'hood.  The girls had a good time, we only stayed 40 minutes, long enough to score some eggs, but short enough that we didn't melt completely (it was so hot!).  So wish me luck that we can maintain low to no grade fevers through tomorrow, because I really am not going to go to this party without the guest of honor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RgWxrPSem2I/AAAAAAAAABk/lARal3mfPAc/s1600-h/Egg+Hunt+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RgWxrPSem2I/AAAAAAAAABk/lARal3mfPAc/s320/Egg+Hunt+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045634313935035234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They don't look so bad considering......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More tomorrow....hopefully all good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-2976202906585620932?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/2976202906585620932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=2976202906585620932' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2976202906585620932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2976202906585620932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/03/heat-wave-fevers-butterflies-bunnies.html' title='Heat wave, fevers, butterflies, bunnies, eggs, and birthdays.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RgWv8PSem0I/AAAAAAAAABU/H6BRQmVqo9s/s72-c/Butterfly+bouquet+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-6855377658733690563</id><published>2007-03-14T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T22:54:34.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Springtime.</title><content type='html'>My life is so spectacular really, I love it....blah, blah, blah.  Ha, ha, don't you hate people like that?  Happy, happy, happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Frick and Frack have been quite the social butterflies in the neighborhood.    The warm weather is here.....should I tell you?  80 degrees baby!  So nice, but that means we have to be chatty.  I swear I've been outside for 5 days straight now, visiting with neighbors, and while I enjoy the interaction, sometimes I'm not feeling so chatty.  I shouldn't complain, this is why we moved here, but when you have 3 unplanned playdates in one day it gets exhausting.  Not to mention that my kids aren't ready for unsupervised playdates, so all this makes Mommy tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R got &lt;a href="http://www.heelys.com/product.aspx?product_id=37&amp;amp;color_id=19"&gt;Heelys&lt;/a&gt;.  Do you know what they are?  Yes, they are those annoying shoes with the wheels that the kids almost knock you down in the store, yep those are the ones.  Our neighbor got them (she's 2 years older) and you know how that goes, R had to have them.  Let's just say that 2 years is a lot in coordination.  R is finally doing it now, but it was rough going for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh she had a roller skating birthday party a few weeks ago.  Who the fuck has a roller skating birthday for a 5  year old?  An idiot that's who.  Don't know about your kids, but my five year old is not adept on roller skates.  It wasn't a fun party.  R liked it, I did not.  I actually walked around with her the entire time, wearing my sneakers.  The funny thing is that this party was at the Roller Drome....the same Roller Drome that I frequented from ages 7-13.   Oh the memories.  All the love affairs over Endless Love...Couples Skate......ahh.....brings me back.  It's a lot different when you have those thoughts while walking around with a 4 year old on clumsy skates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started Proactiv, I want to wake up and look like Jessica Simpson.  I decided that I can't stand my skin, so the infomericals got me, and here I am with a crazy twice a day skin care regimen.  It's only been 5 days, I can't tell a difference yet, but I fully expect to wake up tomorrow looking like Jessica.  Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My garden is all prepped ready to go.  I have ordered 18 heirloom tomato plants, they are being Fedexed (I like making that a verb) on April 3rd.    Guess how much, $50.00.   I hope I get some really freakin' awesome tomatoes.  We had 4 yards of mushroom compost delivered.  Just an FYI 4 yards of mushroom compost is a freakin' boatload of compost!  Just ask the Suit he wheelbarrowed it from the driveway to the backyard about 50o times.   Good Suit, Good Suit.&lt;br /&gt;I've already planted broccoli, lettuce, spinach, and strawberries.  I'm a regular Mr. McGregor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and just a word.....all &lt;a href="http://www.cdr3.com/bradford/"&gt;Bradford Pear Trees&lt;/a&gt; should die!  Puffy white balls of nasty pollen....every last one of them, die.  I hate allergies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact:  Greenville, SC #2 worst city for allergy sufferers in the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't believe me?  Go &lt;a href="http://www.forbes.com/health/2006/05/25/allergy-capital-cities_cx_sy_0526health.html"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never had allergies before I moved....now I'm dying!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-6855377658733690563?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/6855377658733690563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=6855377658733690563' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/6855377658733690563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/6855377658733690563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/03/springtime.html' title='Springtime.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-56497746178006029</id><published>2007-02-21T21:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T21:44:11.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is the title.</title><content type='html'>Ho hum...this thing is really starting to feel like that effing box of Creative Memories scrapbook shit I bought back in 2000........to blog or not to blog that is the question?  Guess I'll plod on tonight since I already started, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw The Departed last night.  Loved it.  Normally wouldn't go for such a shoot 'em up flick, but I guess hearing Matt with his perfect Boston accent and looking at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Marky&lt;/span&gt; Mark with a mushroom haircut made me happy.    You should see it, does &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Beantown&lt;/span&gt; proud.  Made me wish I was in the Irish Mafia.....did anyone catch that Leonardo DiCaprio's character "living on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nawth&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Shawe&lt;/span&gt;"  was living in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bevalee&lt;/span&gt;?  I read it right on the Oxycontin pill bottle.  I think the writer's should have researched a little better because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Bevalee&lt;/span&gt; is no longer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;privileged&lt;/span&gt;, it's more like Lynn, and Lynn is more like East Boston, now when Hamilton becomes Peabody, we've got a real problem! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hood is in a state of duress.....appears that a neighbor is erecting a non-compliant/non-approved shed.  That's right, you read it here first folks!  Trouble in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; Hood!  Know what I love when my bra is poking me at 3:00 in the afternoon, so I decide to throw caution to the wind and just take it off....then I go outside to grab the mail, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;braless&lt;/span&gt; and shoeless and I see like everyone in within a 20 mile radius?  That rocks.  Note to self:  don't take bra off at 3:00 in the afternoon and then go get the mail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow begins another exciting season of soccer.  I'm one of "those" parents.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Soccermom&lt;/span&gt;, you think?  Nope, over scheduling Mom.  Tomorrow R will attend school from 9-2, home from 2:30-3:30 to eat a snack, unwind, then get dressed for swim team.  Swim team from 4-4:45, then sitting in the lobby at the Y with Mammy eating a sandwich dressed in her soccer clothes, then it's a mad dash from the Y at 5:30 (the time I get done with practice) to soccer at least 30 minutes away from 6-7.  Fun, huh?  Luckily she'll only be doing swim team and soccer on Thursdays, and she has nothing on Friday, no school, nothing.  I can say with certainty that she will not be doing two afternoon activities next year, kindergarten will nip that scheduling conflict in the bud! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Kindergarten we go for the tour of the school Friday (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, so I lied we do have something to do),  that should be fun, we were supposed to go a few weeks ago, but I totally spaced and missed the whole thing.  Nice, not like me at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C  has been a little spit fire these days.  Tantrums and turning on the tears at the drop of a hat.    It'll be fun to see her play soccer this season now that she knows what to expect.     She's a riot at her swimming lesson,   just floats along, in her own world then she'll catch my eye as I walk by and wave madly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that's about it, I might shut this down, I'm not sure yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-56497746178006029?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/56497746178006029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=56497746178006029' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/56497746178006029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/56497746178006029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/02/this-is-title.html' title='This is the title.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-4849320995193907636</id><published>2007-02-11T15:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T11:23:57.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Having visitors sucks.</title><content type='html'>Because they leave, and that makes me sad.  :(  When you see people that you haven't seen in ages, you realize how much you miss them, and that sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/Rc97F9--_eI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZNx95BbqLi8/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/Rc97F9--_eI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZNx95BbqLi8/s320/Picture+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030374651264433634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to anti-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;socialness&lt;/span&gt;, it's far less upsetting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW:  R took this picture, not bad for an almost 5 year old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-4849320995193907636?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/4849320995193907636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=4849320995193907636' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4849320995193907636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4849320995193907636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/02/having-visitors-sucks.html' title='Having visitors sucks.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/Rc97F9--_eI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZNx95BbqLi8/s72-c/Picture+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-2684962984053558233</id><published>2007-02-01T11:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T11:45:40.628-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In case you were wondering....</title><content type='html'>The Target Gift Cards have been located!  That's right, Internet, THEY ARE NO LONGER MISSING.  Cancel your search, leave the dump, cease checking the garbage.  AGAIN...to REPEAT....THE TARGET GIFT CARDS HAVE BEEN LOCATED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The culprit is Winnie the Pooh.  Apparently Mr. Pooh took the gift cards and decided to stash them with his  ABC cards, he's in BIG TROUBLE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again....cease the search.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-2684962984053558233?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/2684962984053558233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=2684962984053558233' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2684962984053558233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2684962984053558233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/02/in-case-you-were-wondering.html' title='In case you were wondering....'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-2901765558619233857</id><published>2007-02-01T10:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T10:16:10.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day, SC Style!</title><content type='html'>I have to laugh, it's a "blizzard" here.  Read:  an inch of snow and a few inches of rain.    Tee, hee.....  Here's a few pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RcIDKMHRV7I/AAAAAAAAAAk/kTgyhj_Lnsg/s1600-h/P2010001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RcIDKMHRV7I/AAAAAAAAAAk/kTgyhj_Lnsg/s320/P2010001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026583607684192178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RcID_cHRV9I/AAAAAAAAAA0/AJhoHCPG_Bg/s1600-h/P2010029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RcID_cHRV9I/AAAAAAAAAA0/AJhoHCPG_Bg/s320/P2010029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026584522512226258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RcIDksHRV8I/AAAAAAAAAAs/3A5D0Y91whI/s1600-h/P2010040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RcIDksHRV8I/AAAAAAAAAAs/3A5D0Y91whI/s320/P2010040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026584062950725570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in SC would we have umbrellas in our "blizzard".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-2901765558619233857?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/2901765558619233857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=2901765558619233857' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2901765558619233857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2901765558619233857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/02/snow-day-sc-style.html' title='Snow Day, SC Style!'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RcIDKMHRV7I/AAAAAAAAAAk/kTgyhj_Lnsg/s72-c/P2010001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-2825293793599815967</id><published>2007-01-23T22:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T22:21:50.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our first scheduled visitor.</title><content type='html'>Can you believe it Internet, we've been Sandlappers for 16 months and NO ONE, not ANYONE has bothered to visit.  That's right, popular we apparently are not, until now!  Heather has decided that SHE will be our first visitor.  I'm nervous, we need to make this a good one so maybe some of you other lazy asses will come down and pay us a visit before the kids graduate from high school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of rant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh one more thing, did I mention that Heather is traveling from Oregon?  Yeah, she's like the farthest person from us yet, she's first.  Affirms that in 9th grade in Mrs. Mital's class that even though she had poofy bangs, we were destined to be bestest friends, in spite of our mathematical challenges. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, it's cold, and I don't particularly care for that.  R has joined the swim team.  Crazy, I know, she's 4, but she tried it a few times and decided it was her bag, so now she swims in Mommy's group.  So far she's taken the role of Molly from Annie, ie cute little one that can't really keep up.  I hope that changes soon (not the cute part of course) since I don't want to be nabbed for preferential treatment of my own kid, but really...how can I not?  C is still in her lesson and is basically a sunning walrus.  She is so lazy.  OMG, she just floats along, she can totally swim, but her swim instructor has decided that she loves her and therefore gives her tons of attention, so now C has realized that by being really lazy her nice instructor gives her even more attention when she has to constantly retrieve her from the wrong end of the pool.  Good times at the Y, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heather.....stop reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My house has been a disaster lately.  I have zero motivation to neaten it.  It's not dirty, I've just surrendered to the toys.  C is a pack rat, like Linus, always has her wooby in one hand and some other random item in the other.  She's forever bringing these things downstairs.  I used to be really good at collecting stuff and returning it upstairs, not anymore, just sort of gave up.  Pretty soon the entire house will look like the playroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see Mammy asked R what she'd like for her birthday.  "A seashell ornament".  Note to self:  explain to R the difference between Christmas and Birthdays. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other R news, she's very OCD and suffers from a cleaning disorder, ironic considering the comments two paragraphs up, huh?  I swear she makes her bed before she gets out of it.  Her favorite item to use to clean is toilet paper.  I love waking to the freshly toilet paper washed mirrors in the bathrooms every morning, it's like Hazel lives here.  Maybe we should teach her how to start the coffee pot instead?   She also enjoys using the Kandoo poop wipes for the tough surfaces like toothpaste on the counter, resourceful girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that I will get her a cleaning bucket, smock, handkerchief for her hair, and some non toxic cleaning supplies for her birthday.  Would that be labeled abuse? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear God put C on this earth to solely drive R crazy with her messiness...so far it's working like a charm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-2825293793599815967?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/2825293793599815967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=2825293793599815967' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2825293793599815967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2825293793599815967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/01/our-first-scheduled-visitor.html' title='Our first scheduled visitor.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-7619109910655148656</id><published>2007-01-15T19:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T19:35:52.804-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time no blog.</title><content type='html'>Just haven't been feeling &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bloggy&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few reviews:&lt;br /&gt;After three years together I still really like my Dyson vacuum.  Go get one, they make vacuuming fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After three weeks, my new washer and dryer have not transformed me into liking washing.  Bummer.  No problems, they're working great, they just really need to invent ones that fold and put the clothes away too, I'm all about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reduced fat/calorie peanut butter.  Not worth the extra money.  Same calories and fat as regular, go figure.  Waste of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cleaning with vinegar and water, it's a good thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;World Trade Center.  Very good movie, even if I don't like Nicholas Cage.  Very, very good, and I don't really like Maggie &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Gyllenhal&lt;/span&gt; either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smashed, by Koren &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Zailckas&lt;/span&gt;.   This is a good book.   The author is from Massachusetts and she attended Syracuse.  It's cool to read and relive those days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nanny 911.  I still love these shows.   Kinda like Baby Story back when I was pregnant.  When I get old will there be &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;AARP&lt;/span&gt; reality shows? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are my few reviews of late.  The kids are fine, I have to register R for kindergarten this week.  That's scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-7619109910655148656?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/7619109910655148656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=7619109910655148656' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7619109910655148656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/7619109910655148656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/01/long-time-no-blog.html' title='Long time no blog.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-481767546262884725</id><published>2007-01-03T15:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T15:44:41.284-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This was not staged.</title><content type='html'>This is how I just found them. (Note: C pulled the &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;barstool&lt;/span&gt; over to get a better view, R has chosen to take the stool from the bathroom as her perch.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/washerdryer1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/washerdryer1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And another view. Check our R's smirk.  "Waiting for the beep".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/washerdryer2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/washerdryer2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think the pictures say it all, but  my new washer and dryer arrived today.  R has been doing laundry all day, I think this was better than the &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Leapster&lt;/span&gt; in her eyes.  C is enjoying the "beep".  I've heard "Mama the beep is calling you" about ten times.  R has begged me to show her how to start the washer and dryer, but I haven't taught her, somehow I feel that doing her own laundry at 4 is a bit much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see the talk at &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-school tomorrow.  "I did laundry all day yesterday".  I guess I should prepare my explanation to &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;DSS&lt;/span&gt; now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-481767546262884725?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/481767546262884725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=481767546262884725' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/481767546262884725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/481767546262884725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2007/01/this-was-not-staged.html' title='This was not staged.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-3542276507001581003</id><published>2006-12-31T20:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T20:28:08.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another year in review.</title><content type='html'>I'm feeling very When Harry Met Sally.  I'm going to be turning 34 in 2007, that might as well be 40.  34.  When did that happen?  I truly do not feel much different than when I was say, 24, 14, yes, 4 yes.  34.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The antibiotics have kicked in with R and I ended up putting C on a dose as well.  We were able to go to the Y for some swimming today, which was really fun.  We haven't been in a long time, with me coaching and soccer, etc.  We need to go more often.     We will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last year has been pretty good.  Things in Married Land are going swimmingly, we're still quite happy, heading into our 7th anniversary.  Do you get the seven year itch after being married 7 years, or is it together 7 years?  We've been together 9, so I'm hoping it's the latter and that we're now in the "safe" zone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say R and C are truly amazing girls.  R is quite serious and likes to organize.  She's a cleaner, she's responsible, she's a snuggler, she's a hugger, she wants to be with me or her Daddy whenever she can.  C is a free spirit, she's positively hysterical, she can entertain herself for hours, she's independent, she's a leader, she adores her sister, she has boundless energy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny people said that I'd be happy that I had them 18 months apart, but I didn't believe them.  They are truly best friends.  Everyday I'm amazed at their bond, they play so well, they look out for one another, they also cover for each other.  They still have their few disagreements, but I'm blessed, they are wonderful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we three Parker girls were snuggling in bed, and I felt so lucky, so very lucky.  They were giggling and there was some thumb sucking, and I was reflecting on the last 12 months.  R played soccer for the first time.  C followed 6 months later.  R and C both found new friends, R started pre-school.  C became fully potty trained and gave up her paci,  R still visits our bed at night, but it's becoming less and less, and truly, when she stops, I will miss her warm snuggles.   Both learned  how to ride bikes with training wheels.  R started to choose her own outfits.  They both gave up Mommy's "bows".  They shared a week at Disney World.  They lost their only Grampy, they are none the wiser, but I feel sad for them.  R can dive from the starting block, C can swim all by herself.  C got her Tinkerbelle bedroom, she also got her ponyride for her birthday.  R can write her name, C can recognize hers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't possibly come up with all the amazing things that they've done throughout 2006, and I can only imagine what 2007 will bring.  Kindergarten for R...pre-school for C.......sadness for me.  I miss them already.  Sleep tight sweet girls, see you next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-3542276507001581003?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/3542276507001581003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=3542276507001581003' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3542276507001581003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/3542276507001581003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2006/12/another-year-in-review.html' title='Another year in review.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-2306677675757129708</id><published>2006-12-27T19:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-27T19:31:53.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor R.</title><content type='html'>So R has officially had her first dose of antibiotics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor kid.  She  has had a cold for about a week and a half, both of them actually.  Really snotty, coughs, major yucky.  With the holidays and all of the excitement she's just sort of flown under the radar.  Until last night that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She'd been taking cough and cold &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;, ,but she woke up last night around 10:15 (conveniently 15 minutes after urgent care closed) screaming, crying, and pulling her ear.  I immediately knew what was wrong.  So the &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;FI&lt;/span&gt; Suit had just come home, and off R and I went to the emergency room.  Fun times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrived at the ER at 10:30, checked in, waited to be seen in triage.  Got seen in triage at 11:30, put into a room in the ER and waited.....and waited......and waited.  I was getting so pissed.  No one looked in the poor kids ear, and she's crying and crying and crying.  I KNOW THEY CAN HEAR HER!  Nothing.  I keep asking when anyone will see her, they are vague.  Finally at 12:30  I said, "You know what we're leaving this is ridiculous, she just needs antibiotics".  The woman at the desk says, "Oh wait let me get your nurse (who we have yet to see).  She comes in says, "Let me check with the doctor, and see if he'll move you up.".  Comes back. No he's not moving us up.  There were 5 people ahead of us, and she really suggests that we wait.  I said, "Uh yeah that could be another 2 hours."  Bitch says, "Or 3".  Nice, huh? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really caring for the little 4 year old crying in the ER , really compassionate.   So I was absolutely fuming.  I did what I should have done all along.  Called my sister at 12:30 PM, woke her up, and made the 45 minute trip to get seen by a doctor.  So Jenn was really sweet, came out to the car, brought her &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;otoscope&lt;/span&gt; out looked in her ear, and said "Yep, Mommy was right you have an ear infection".  Then she handed us a bag of antibiotic samples and off we went. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the moral of the story, at 10:30 I should have called Dr. Jenn, driven 45 minutes, picked up the antibiotics, and been home by 12:00.  What time did we get home?  2:00 AM. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always call your sister the Doctor before trying to not to be a mooch and go it alone, that's the moral folks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've managed to escape any prescription meds for the kids for almost 5 years, that's pretty good, why do I think the prescription medication floodgates have just been opened and we're about to start drowning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll give a Christmas/Party &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;synopsis&lt;/span&gt; later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-2306677675757129708?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/2306677675757129708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=2306677675757129708' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2306677675757129708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2306677675757129708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2006/12/poor-r.html' title='Poor R.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-2493271147914593754</id><published>2006-12-22T09:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T09:19:13.417-05:00</updated><title type='text'>411</title><content type='html'>Hi, It's me Danyelle.   &lt;br /&gt;Can you help me?&lt;br /&gt;Great, thanks.&lt;br /&gt;Um a relative sent two $25.00 Target Cards to &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Frick&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Frack&lt;/span&gt; yesterday, and I cannot find them.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I've looked everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;FI&lt;/span&gt; Suit even emptied two bags of trash looking.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we did find the envelope they came in.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we looked in all the obvious places.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we even enlisted the help of &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Frick&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Frack&lt;/span&gt; hoping they were behind the disappearance.&lt;br /&gt;Nope, nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Frack&lt;/span&gt; was very helpful, but that was only because she knew a shopping spree was on the other end.&lt;br /&gt;I know, we really can't find them.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we did look in the stockings.&lt;br /&gt;Yep, in tree too.&lt;br /&gt;Even the freezer, and the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I even emptied all my "bins" searching.&lt;br /&gt;Nope, still nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Really, you have no more suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;Wow, some information....OK, I'm going to return to ripping my  hair out because this is the kind of stuff that will drive me CRAZY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-2493271147914593754?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/2493271147914593754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=2493271147914593754' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2493271147914593754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/2493271147914593754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2006/12/411.html' title='411'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-9041460288515249496</id><published>2006-12-21T14:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T15:00:08.005-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok, Ok.</title><content type='html'>The ceiling:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/PC210001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/PC210001.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new light that I love:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/PC210003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/PC210003.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lastly the disarray I call my dining room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/PC210005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/PC210005.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do believe he'll always be the FI Suit, however.  Love him dearly, but FI.  ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-9041460288515249496?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/9041460288515249496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=9041460288515249496' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/9041460288515249496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/9041460288515249496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2006/12/ok-ok.html' title='Ok, Ok.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-5702210081135504495</id><published>2006-12-20T20:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T20:46:06.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good shape.</title><content type='html'>So R's school party went very well,  the other Room Mom that was supposed to help with the party was MIA as her hubby surprised her with a holiday cruise!  So I was flying solo.  I had to bring cupcakes and pizza.  I was informed by R's teacher that the kids never eat the cupcakes, but these were extraordinary, and teachers and kids from other classes were coming in to sample!  The FI Suit sure can make a mean cupcake.  The highlight of the party was C was asked to stay for the movie and playground time!  I left her for about 90 minutes with the 4K class, and to say she was thrilled would be an understatement.  I swear that was better to her than any Christmas present.  A few kids were missing (cruising), and C immediately filled in an empty seat and snuck (spell check says this isn't a word, I think it should be, I'm writing Webster's) right in in for cupcakes, juice boxes, and pizza.  Guess I won't have any trouble sending her to school next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say I'm not one to get sappy, but I feel so lucky to have found this school.  The teachers are wonderful, and the whole place is just amazing.  There are only 4 classes, each with 10 kids, so it's small. Everyone knows everyone.  I gave the director, helper, and R's teacher a little gift bag on Thursday before the program (early because I knew I couldn't carry all that stuff and the party stuff on Tuesday) and all three were so appreciative.  R got three personal handwritten thank you notes in her going home bag on Tuesday!  Isn't that crazy?  All three women also made it a point to personally thank me and it wasn't generic they commented on each item in the bag.  I felt so good, but at the same time I have to wonder do other parents not do little gifts?  I really didn't see too many little gift bags when I left, so I can only speculate, but I hope they are treated well, they are truly wonderful women.  C will go to this same school for 2  years, so I just feel so fortunate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok enough sappiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Eve is shaping up to be awesome.  About 30 people, I'm psyched.  I've done all of my baking, made caramel corn, pretty much finished shopping, wrapped all the gifts, sent all the little gifts to the FI Suit's unappreciative work, and gotten started cleaning.  Most of the stuff I need to do now has to wait.  We've also had a Christmas Day change of plans, originally my sister was not coming Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, but they've had a change of heart, so now we're traveling to her house Christmas Day with our beef tenderloin roast.  The kids will have a blast, I'm sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I have about 20 magazines to read because I'm cleaning off my end tables to make room for alcoholic beverages on Christmas Eve!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I don't have a chance, Merry Christmas!  Hope Santa is good to you.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-5702210081135504495?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/5702210081135504495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=5702210081135504495' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5702210081135504495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5702210081135504495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2006/12/good-shape.html' title='Good shape.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-1740929601816376764</id><published>2006-12-14T20:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T21:04:12.113-05:00</updated><title type='text'>PTL.</title><content type='html'>R had her Christmas &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pagent&lt;/span&gt; tonight at school.  I can safely say I don't think that she will ever be a Vegas show girl, which really isn't a bad thing at all.  She did not cry or flee from the stage, nor did she enjoy one part of the program.  She did, however, greatly enjoy the trip to &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Fuddrucker's&lt;/span&gt; after to celebrate her singing debut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RYIB3cKREmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/LoOqicwBCsM/s1600-h/group+cute.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RYIB3cKREmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/LoOqicwBCsM/s320/group+cute.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008567787553100386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my personal favorite.  &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hallelujah&lt;/span&gt;, Praise the Lord!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RYICK8KREnI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Wxjy9jvK8U8/s1600-h/praise+god.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RYICK8KREnI/AAAAAAAAAAU/Wxjy9jvK8U8/s320/praise+god.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008568122560549490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way......how about throwing out a comment here and there....I know you're reading...I can see you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-1740929601816376764?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/1740929601816376764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=1740929601816376764' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1740929601816376764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1740929601816376764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2006/12/ptl.html' title='PTL.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MLVXUJd5NmQ/RYIB3cKREmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/LoOqicwBCsM/s72-c/group+cute.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-4865724677125660358</id><published>2006-12-14T12:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T12:40:16.914-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Imelda Marcos</title><content type='html'>So I'm living with Imelda Marcos.   R has about 30 pairs of shoes/flip flops/sneakers.  I realize this is absurd, but for the most part they are given to us by our neighbor.  Well R has decided that shoes do not belong in her closet on the shoe rack, but they should be lined up on her empty wall space.  I so should have taken a picture, but I didn't.  Any &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;.......this line up of shoes reminds me of the play room toy line up last year, all neatly arranged ready for take off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now R is a bit of a neat freak some times, hence the line up, but like me the neat freak stuff comes and goes.  I have been barely able to open her bedroom door for a few weeks (since she decided the closet wasn't worthy of her shoe collection), because there is a "line" right in the door path.  Well today I decided I was done, SHOE PURGE USA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh she's going to be so pissed!  I got rid of about 10-12 pairs that she does not wear and the rest are in her closet on the rack.  She had decided her closet was her clubhouse and was using her laundry basket for books, (the toy box in her room was suddenly filled with dirty clothes) and she had all her "stuff" in there, with little notes taped on the walls, etc.  Gone, gone, gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you remember when your Mom would do this as a kid?  I remember being happy at first coming home from school to find my room in order, but then you started looking for "things" that were missing....well at about 2:30 today that will be R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All cheapo birthday party favors-purged.&lt;br /&gt;All McDonald's happy meal toys-purged.&lt;br /&gt;All random accessories-purged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen closely you just might hear the screaming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-4865724677125660358?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/4865724677125660358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=4865724677125660358' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4865724677125660358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/4865724677125660358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2006/12/imelda-marcos.html' title='Imelda Marcos'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-1814618666039688954</id><published>2006-12-12T20:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T20:48:46.009-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Have I told you</title><content type='html'>That C call's ornament hangers "hookers"?  Like, "Mommy Santa needs a hooker."  How funny is that?  She asked the FI Suit what his favorite "hooker" was.  Guess that'd be me, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swim team ends this Thursday with an end of the season meet, of course I have to rush out and try to be at R's school program.  It never fails that these things fall on the same night.  So frustrating.  I feel bad leaving the meet, but my normal schedule is until 5:30, and I just can't stay and risk missing my little girls singing debut!  Sorry kids.   Speaking of the kids, a little boy gave me a handmade card and homemade cookies today, so cute!  Also another gave me a box of Russell Stover chocolates....guess who got a fun practice today?  Chocolate bribery is such a good tool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see what else, nothing really.  I need to get list making for my big Christmas Eve party, I'm not getting many RSVP's, which does not mean people aren't coming, it just means they can't read or that they don't know what RSVP means.  Duh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a funny Mom story, her water bill was really high this month, so she figured out that her toilets have a "silent flush" ie, sucking water silently costing her big bucks.  Well she went to Wally World to buy new "guts" for the toilets and she was asking the gentleman in the hardware department about the pros and cons of certain models, etc, and then she says "Will I be able to do this on my own?"  His reply, "Well sure, but why not just get one of the guys from the Church to come do it?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh......The Southland.......funny church assumers.  It was a nice sentiment, but oh well.....she did it herself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-1814618666039688954?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/1814618666039688954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=1814618666039688954' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1814618666039688954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/1814618666039688954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2006/12/have-i-told-you.html' title='Have I told you'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-6163768912287915802</id><published>2006-12-06T19:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T19:59:32.332-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I know, I know.</title><content type='html'>I create a new blog and then I neglect it, but you expected that, right?  We're fighting a very odd virus in the Parker House these days.  Miss C had the the R sickness from Thanksgiving last Monday, then acted fine Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday all day, only to puke once each night between the hours of 10 PM and 1 AM.  Odd you say?  Yes, me too.  Well we thought that her random pukes were from coughing and that she had "practiced" puking so well on Monday that it became a natural reflex...that's at least what Doctor Mommy had decided......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Appears I was wrong...very wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to Monday, when we had been in a puke free household for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  R wakes up at 10:30 PM and pukes her guts out.  Made it to the bathroom, bless her heart (said the washing machine).  Then she slept with us all night and was seemingly fine.  Tuesday morning (school day) she was blah and I decided not to send her to school, however she got wind of this and suddenly was "fine, fine, fine".  So she appeared fine, ate a &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bagel&lt;/span&gt; and off she went to infect the masses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picked her up Tuesday from school, fine mood, no worries, then I opened her lunch bag, she ate nothing.  Nada, &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;zippo&lt;/span&gt;.  So I asked her if she was sick, "No, Claudia brought in donuts".  &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, that was odd, but I "guessed" that was the reason.  The girls were slated to sleep over at my Mom's house so the &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;FI&lt;/span&gt; Suit and I could wrap presents, so we headed that way and I told my Mom what was going on, etc.  She wasn't worried, and I told her I'd call after practice.  So I called, and all was well, and they wanted to sleep over.  Fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this morning the &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;FI&lt;/span&gt; Suit called my Mom to pick up the girls and yep, R puked last night around 11 PM, in Mammy's bed, all over Mammy (getting her back for the chili incident last week).  So all day today R acted fine, she ate &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;minimal&lt;/span&gt; little soup here and there, but in general mood fine.  She's in bed tonight snuggling with "the bucket" and I've given her instructions on steps to take to avoid puking all over the bed....I'm hopeful.  She did say she "thought she'd get sick tonight".  That isn't giving me a warm fuzzy feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My stomach has felt like &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;crapola&lt;/span&gt; since dinner.......I really hope I'm not getting the "Mystery puke between 10 PM and 1AM Once a Day Sickness".  Man that would suck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, the presents are wrapped. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog site rocks by the way...SPELL CHECK!  Woohoo...do you like my country song?  It's totally R....swearing woman that she it.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-6163768912287915802?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/6163768912287915802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=6163768912287915802' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/6163768912287915802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/6163768912287915802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-know-i-know.html' title='I know, I know.'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591423559415058773.post-5256274143252220217</id><published>2006-12-03T22:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T22:09:40.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Coupon Humor</title><content type='html'>The folks at Proctor and Gamble are so funny!Anyone else see the humor in linking these two products?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/charminfolgers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 421px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 283px" height="225" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/danyelleparker/charminfolgers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I especially like the "cha, cha, cha" thought because that's what I'm thinking as I run to the bathroom after my first morning cup of Folgers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Sunday to you, too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5591423559415058773-5256274143252220217?l=afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/feeds/5256274143252220217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5591423559415058773&amp;postID=5256274143252220217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5256274143252220217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5591423559415058773/posts/default/5256274143252220217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afewdailyblunders.blogspot.com/2006/12/coupon-humor.html' title='Coupon Humor'/><author><name>Danyelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07591637233806567362</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
