<?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-4182739544098868110</id><updated>2011-12-20T20:45:13.101-08:00</updated><category term='poetry'/><category term='time management'/><category term='hours'/><category term='Sleep'/><title type='text'>Just Shamree</title><subtitle type='html'>A tiny little space where I can just be me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>56</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-48278893150369293</id><published>2011-12-20T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T19:23:41.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmastime</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;Christmas is here! What a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wondrous&lt;/span&gt; time of year. I love how people go out of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;their &lt;/span&gt;way to give, take time with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; families, and can't wait to surprise someone they found the perfect gift for. Of course I love shopping, and baking, and the smell of pine trees. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ahhh&lt;/span&gt; Christmas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;I think this is the first Christmas in a few years that I will be able to enjoy. My baby is 18 months and a walking toddler. I am not pregnant. I didn't just change jobs. We didn't just move. And I do not have a baby! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wahoo&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;I've baked several batches of cookies, volunteered at a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; party at a nursing home, 1/2 way decorated my house, baked 3 batches of apple butter, have already gone sledding, bought all my gifts, and wrapped everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;Plus, my kids are so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;excited&lt;/span&gt; this year. Abby remembers Christmas. Nehemiah loves opening presents and has the best "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ohhhhh&lt;/span&gt;" when opening gifts, and Josiah---- well, he's old enough to not eat the tissue paper. It's the small things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;And last but not least we will be home for Christmas eve and Christmas morning in our own house. I am so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;excited&lt;/span&gt; I almost needed to change my pants! I can't wait for Christmas this year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;Yeah for Christmastime and the reason for the season:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-48278893150369293?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/48278893150369293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmastime.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/48278893150369293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/48278893150369293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmastime.html' title='Christmastime'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-793492093067152989</id><published>2011-09-19T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T13:01:39.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome Fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fall is upon us already and it's not yet the end of September. My daughter needs to wear tights. I need my scarf and jacket. Leaves are turning--- ahhh I love fall. It is my favorite time of year. I 'm not sure if it is because of my birthday is in this season, or because I'm not overly fond of being hot. I like summer sun and fun, but give me cold anytime over being hot. I think wearing jeans, short sleeve shirts with a long sleeve one tied around my waist and comfy tennis shoes is my favorite outfit--- hence I love fall.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It signifies change and time for being indoors with warm blankets and loved ones. Baking and cooking yummy soups (not that I am a soup lover mind you) and sweets.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It also used to mean back to school. I love school. I am a nerd- no surprise. I miss going to school, ok not the cost, but the classes and learning.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now my daughter is in school and it's me being the mom arranging play dates, PTO events, and packing lunches. When did I get so old??? I would happily just pack my lunch and go to school and play at recess and do art projects right along with her. Alas, it's her time now and I'm the school bus. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;How time flies.....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-793492093067152989?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/793492093067152989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/09/welcome-fall.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/793492093067152989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/793492093067152989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/09/welcome-fall.html' title='Welcome Fall'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-2597081819158345469</id><published>2011-08-28T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T12:51:02.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something has got to give</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fie9WJc_8kU/TlrC-za3sbI/AAAAAAAAANs/jEX7ZC89eQg/s1600/IMG_0249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646039467072926130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fie9WJc_8kU/TlrC-za3sbI/AAAAAAAAANs/jEX7ZC89eQg/s320/IMG_0249.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You ever have one of those weeks, months?, where something has just got to give. Things can't keep going like this. Nothing is horribly wrong, but nothing is awesomely good either. It's life. There are amazingly good things like my son running up to me, randomly, and saying "momma, I love you" or my baby waking up from a nap and saying "hi!" like it's the best day of his life. Poor little guy got yelled at earlier for no reason except that momma was tired. Thank God they don't have many memories before the age of 4. I just need to outweigh the good stuff from the bad, like yelling at them. We had a blast today playing outside with water, and swings, and mud for hours. I loved watching them play in the yard each of them with a different agenda. Sometimes they played together, and sometimes not. I feel like our yard is small, but for them it's huge and it's fun! I'm still not sure how I can keep going on and on and on and on without a break soon. A real break. No work. No kids. No housework. Time to sleep and craft and create. Notice sleep came first;) Ah if only it was that easy. Oh yeah, and hitting the lotto would help too.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-2597081819158345469?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/2597081819158345469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/08/something-has-got-to-give.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/2597081819158345469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/2597081819158345469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/08/something-has-got-to-give.html' title='Something has got to give'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fie9WJc_8kU/TlrC-za3sbI/AAAAAAAAANs/jEX7ZC89eQg/s72-c/IMG_0249.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-5653476350705892055</id><published>2011-03-14T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T09:02:10.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where do I fit in??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I'm starting to really believe the phrase "When they made you they broke the mold"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;It just seems that I never really fit in anywhere. Other people seem to have hit &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; stride, or be where God has called them, or in a family to which they love and loves them-- and I feel like I'm always pushing my way into people's lives. I'm always the one calling. I'm always the one giving. I'm always the one saying "HEY...I'm here... want to hand out...I'll do anything for you to like me a little!".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Why is that? Anyone that knows me will tell you I DO NOT have a self confidence issue. I love to help people when they are down. I'm organized. and yet...it seems like I was made for something and I just haven't found it yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I can't be involved with ANYTHING for more than 5 minutes before I have the urge to jump in and lead it.  I can't help it. It's apart of my DNA. I have learned to fight the urge to jump in and start volunteering to help, or lead everything I can-- but the urge is still there, under the surface lurking.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;In a personality test it said I'm a "Motivating Director"-- &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; Lord. You made me this way. Where the heck do you want to use me? Am I doing what you wanted me to do? Am I supposed to have this job such that I can afford to support the missionaries doing your work?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I think I'd LOVE to be a wedding &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;coordinator&lt;/span&gt;, similar to Jenifer Lopez in "The wedding planner" aside from the single looking for a guy.  But then I have children and weekend/summer work wouldn't be the best for my family life. And how the heck do you start off learning to do this so you can do it well??? You'd probably have to be in a big city is my guess like New York...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; Lord. Why don't I seem to fit in? Where is it you want me to be so I feel like I fit????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-5653476350705892055?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/5653476350705892055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/03/where-do-i-fit-in.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5653476350705892055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5653476350705892055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/03/where-do-i-fit-in.html' title='Where do I fit in??'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-8436448053050545181</id><published>2011-03-11T22:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T22:23:07.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's hard</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Yes I am typing in poop brown. today was a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;poopy&lt;/span&gt; day. I've had kind of a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;poopy&lt;/span&gt; week. Sick off and on. Migraines. And really so far off 2 of my 3 goals for 2011 I feel like giving up and hoping for 2012- and yes, it's only March.  I feel like I just want to go on a cruise or a 7 day get away with my husband- but then- that goes against goal #2, pay off debt from being pregnant for 2 years and not working full time for awhile.  It probably also goes against goal #3 of losing 40 lbs this year too.  That is just in the tanker right now. I feel like an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;addict&lt;/span&gt; that has fallen off the wagon, knows they need to get back on, and really can't find the way.  I really just need another woman who needs to lose weight to come along side me so we can encourage each other.  No offense to my skinny friends, but this is one you can't help on even though many of you have been here and are on "the other side".  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Oh Lord give me strength. Give my kids sleep, and me so I have the strength and energy to do what I need to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-8436448053050545181?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/8436448053050545181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/03/its-hard.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/8436448053050545181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/8436448053050545181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/03/its-hard.html' title='it&apos;s hard'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-8022612374142963352</id><published>2011-02-04T14:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T14:56:19.520-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hours'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time management'/><title type='text'>It's been awhile</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;...since I posted last on here. I can't say that I have anything profound to say except that I continually struggle with time management. It never seems there is enough time in the day no matter how I split, re-prioritize, and multi-task. I'm an engineer and the math just &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; add up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ideal &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;amount&lt;/span&gt; of time needed for each activity in my day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;1 hr = devotional&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;1 hr = wake up, getting ready, showered, dressed, make- up, coffee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;8 hours = sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;3 hr = prep/eating/clean up after my messy kids&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;8 hr = work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;1 hr = commute&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;1 hr = work out, shower&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;4 hrs = be with kiddos, playing, getting dressed, time outs, bath, fighting over brushing teeth, reading books, cuddling, etc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;1 hr = house hold chores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;1 hr = downtime before bed, getting ready for bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;1 hr = time it takes for me to fall asleep, if I'm lucky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Grand total: 30 hours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Now I can tell you what in my day doesn't get the time it needs...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;1 hr = devotional&lt;br /&gt;1 hr = wake up, getting ready, showered, dressed, make- up, coffee&lt;br /&gt;8 hours = sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;1 hr = work out, shower&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Hm...and some of these seem slightly more important. I guess that's it. I'm going to cut out showering, eating, then I can cut out working out, and 1 less hour of sleep.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;- guess I can fit it all in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;UGH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-8022612374142963352?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/8022612374142963352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/02/its-been-awhile.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/8022612374142963352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/8022612374142963352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/02/its-been-awhile.html' title='It&apos;s been awhile'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-4469357588315445742</id><published>2011-01-11T10:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T10:50:00.281-08:00</updated><title type='text'>“Come follow me” Jesus said “and I will make you fishers of men” Matthew 4:19</title><content type='html'>I love this story. Jesus called to them and they answered immediately- wow. There was no “but” or “what if” or “how?” or “what about that guy?”.  Can you imagine the job description for this?&lt;br /&gt;-          Must be willing to travel 100%&lt;br /&gt;-          Expenses not paid, must work for free&lt;br /&gt;-          You will be persecuted&lt;br /&gt;-          Accomplish tasks with no questions asked, even if they do not make sense&lt;br /&gt;-          Serve others whole heartedly&lt;br /&gt;-          Sleep and food optional&lt;br /&gt;And they did without question or hesitation.  How many times in my life has God tried to call to me or recruit me for a job and I either haven’t been listening, or didn’t answer, or just put up too much resistance.  How can I obey and follow in my current job? Maybe this is what God has called me to and I need to serve him in what I am doing.  When the apostles agreed to follow Christ they accepted the call on His terms, not theirs. Isn’t that how it is with most jobs? On your bosses terms?  Where is God calling me to serve and follow him today? How can I be in tune and listen especially since I’m not a good listener. I’m horrible actually at only listening enough so I can formulate a response in my head before they finish speaking. I interrupt. I talk over people. I talk too much. I need to learn to listen. Really listen. To others. To God. This means I have to take time with people and not rush through them.  I need to learn to be comfortable in silence and listen intently.  This is how I felt when I was in France- I spent so much time listening and trying to understand that I had little time to respond. I had to listen, look, and just soak in everything around me to hear and understand what people where saying.  That is how I want to listen to people- that is how I need to learn to listen to God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-4469357588315445742?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/4469357588315445742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/01/come-follow-me-jesus-said-and-i-will.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4469357588315445742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4469357588315445742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2011/01/come-follow-me-jesus-said-and-i-will.html' title='“Come follow me” Jesus said “and I will make you fishers of men” Matthew 4:19'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-1182813042060069593</id><published>2010-11-18T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T19:38:05.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>tears are gone, introspectiveness is not</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;All I have to say to my many friends and relatives that are pregnant is "you go girl" and "I'm glad it's not me!"  There is a certain status you get as a pregnant woman, royal treatment and all- but man I don't miss crying for every little thing, the lack of sleep, and how the smallest smell could force my stomach upside down.  However, even I no longer shed tears for everything, there are some things going on that should produce them- but I think I've turn all emotion off for awhile. God knows it needs a break. Instead, here I sit in my room on my computer trying to understand it all. Reason it through. Make a plan to deal. all that and trying to get over this flu that has hit my body pretty hard the last 24 hours.  That was honestly the last thing I needed right now.  Although maybe if I did cry I could get it out and move on instead of replaying things over in my mind a hundred ways. a hundred and one, two, three......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333333;"&gt;this could be a long night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-1182813042060069593?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/1182813042060069593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/11/tears-are-gone-introspectiveness-is-not.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/1182813042060069593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/1182813042060069593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/11/tears-are-gone-introspectiveness-is-not.html' title='tears are gone, introspectiveness is not'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-2376885664202326979</id><published>2010-10-10T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T21:51:42.887-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Lost Poetry by Yours Truly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One Moment&lt;br /&gt;Shamree Howard&lt;br /&gt;8/30/07&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter learned to clap today&lt;br /&gt;And I learned to pause&lt;br /&gt;To take a moment&lt;br /&gt;To share in her joy&lt;br /&gt;Her delight&lt;br /&gt;Of finally figuring out&lt;br /&gt;How to control her hands&lt;br /&gt;To make a noise&lt;br /&gt;To express joy&lt;br /&gt;I realized in that moment&lt;br /&gt;That one paused moment&lt;br /&gt;The bills didn’t matter&lt;br /&gt;My job didn’t matter&lt;br /&gt;My weight didn’t matter&lt;br /&gt;Only the fact that I was there&lt;br /&gt;And that I paused&lt;br /&gt;To share that one moment with her&lt;br /&gt;And found joy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hope&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shamree Landis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.26.03&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one may wonder if windows&lt;br /&gt;that see into the depths of the soul&lt;br /&gt;are a blessing or a curse&lt;br /&gt;they show the hope of what yet&lt;br /&gt;come to pass, if only-&lt;br /&gt;any they dare not show&lt;br /&gt;the disappointment one keeps at bay&lt;br /&gt;staring&lt;br /&gt;searching&lt;br /&gt;one may lose themselves&lt;br /&gt;pining away for their eyes&lt;br /&gt;to confirm only that which&lt;br /&gt;their hearts have dared to dream of&lt;br /&gt;and they could spend their&lt;br /&gt;entire lives looking into that window&lt;br /&gt;waiting and hoping&lt;br /&gt;al the time just wasting away&lt;br /&gt;without a sliver of a change&lt;br /&gt;to regain those precious lost moments&lt;br /&gt;then again-&lt;br /&gt;in giving someone the chance to do it again&lt;br /&gt;I bet they wouldn’t change a thing-&lt;br /&gt;Because you see&lt;br /&gt;Love may make the world go round&lt;br /&gt;But hope&lt;br /&gt;Is what makes the ride worthwhile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;----------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Heavy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shamree Landis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.26.03&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your cologne hands in the air&lt;br /&gt;stubbornly&lt;br /&gt;refusing to leave&lt;br /&gt;like moth balls on my grandmothers wedding&lt;br /&gt;gown saved for me&lt;br /&gt;in the attic&lt;br /&gt;a place I dare not venture to&lt;br /&gt;like asking what if&lt;br /&gt;or asking you why&lt;br /&gt;I could not make you&lt;br /&gt;Love me&lt;br /&gt;And I could not make you&lt;br /&gt;Stay&lt;br /&gt;So I let you go&lt;br /&gt;With open arms and&lt;br /&gt;A closed heart&lt;br /&gt;Hoping you’d come back&lt;br /&gt;To the cologne that&lt;br /&gt;Belongs to you&lt;br /&gt;And yet here is stays&lt;br /&gt;Heavy in the air&lt;br /&gt;Heavy on my shoulders&lt;br /&gt;Guarding my heart&lt;br /&gt;Keeping it prisoner&lt;br /&gt;For a master that will not return&lt;br /&gt;tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-----------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I were in Charge of the World&lt;br /&gt;Shamree Landis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12/3/98&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were in charge of the world purple would be the royal color&lt;br /&gt;and chocolate would be a food group&lt;br /&gt;all John Grisham movies would be rated “G”&lt;br /&gt;and Jerks would spontaneously combust&lt;br /&gt;just like pollution&lt;br /&gt;we wouldn’t have enemies&lt;br /&gt;because they would be banned&lt;br /&gt;People who are sweet would be adored&lt;br /&gt;because they wouldn’t let it go to their head&lt;br /&gt;like the professional sports players&lt;br /&gt;who are mostly guys anyway&lt;br /&gt;there would have to be more pro women’s teams&lt;br /&gt;and they would play to profit education&lt;br /&gt;because college is expensive&lt;br /&gt;then everyone could go&lt;br /&gt;I would make everyone take a language pill&lt;br /&gt;just like vitamins but they would allow everyone to understand&lt;br /&gt;every other language&lt;br /&gt;even sign&lt;br /&gt;Everyone would have to have a teddy bear to hold&lt;br /&gt;and a hug everyday&lt;br /&gt;because hugs are good and make people smile&lt;br /&gt;and every millionaire would adopt an orphan like “Annie”&lt;br /&gt;so there would only be happy endings, eventually&lt;br /&gt;If I were in charge of the World&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Homeless Hobo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shamree Landis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12/11/98&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I sold the world&lt;br /&gt;I misdirected hostility&lt;br /&gt;Now my lightning crashes&lt;br /&gt;As my thunder rolls&lt;br /&gt;My heart hungers&lt;br /&gt;Remembering the time&lt;br /&gt;That it looked back in anger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fear of being alone&lt;br /&gt;Makes me a stranger&lt;br /&gt;A dream lover of no-one&lt;br /&gt;That lives on the edge&lt;br /&gt;Between insanity and fantasy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who will save my soul&lt;br /&gt;When the rainbow comes&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Step by step in the rain&lt;br /&gt;Right next to hell&lt;br /&gt;I will knock on heavens door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God will send his angels&lt;br /&gt;I can still throw it all away&lt;br /&gt;To save this little bit of soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-2376885664202326979?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/2376885664202326979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/10/lost-poetry-by-yours-truly.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/2376885664202326979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/2376885664202326979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/10/lost-poetry-by-yours-truly.html' title='Lost Poetry by Yours Truly'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-7611459811282473048</id><published>2010-08-28T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T22:00:03.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moral delima- what to do?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;So in coming outside from King &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Soopers&lt;/span&gt; on our routine Saturday morning grocery shopping trip I saw a strange sight.  There was a man, young man?, shirtless-shoeless-dirty-skin and bones, standing in the middle of the parking lot approaching people as they walked out.  I lowered my head, avoided eye contact and was thankful for the couple ahead of me that would encounter him first so I could rush towards my car.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt; guy was not menacing, just dirty.  In reaching my car I felt 3 things &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt;: 1- relief since josh/&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;abby&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nehemiah&lt;/span&gt; were already in the car having run out of fun things to do in the grocery store while I was checking out, 2- safe that my husband was there, and 3- conviction.  How horrible was I????  "when you have helped the least of these you have helped me...." rang in my ears as if God was shouting it in a microphone.  Josh and I quietly discussed it. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do we give him money?  No he'll just buy alcohol. What if doesn't and just needs food? Aren't we supposed to just give with no strings attached? But do we really want to enable a bad &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;habit&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do we give him gift cards?  Then at least he can eat right??? Or go buy shoes?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do we buy him food? What does he eat? Should we take him grocery shopping? He &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; have shoes let alone a bag to put stuff in?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;So Josh went back in the store and bought some bread.  Then when he came out we drove around the parking lot until we found the guy.  It was then that I noticed the abrasions all over his body.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;AIDs&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Cigarette&lt;/span&gt; burns? it was horrible.  He was using a local &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;starbucks&lt;/span&gt; patrons cell phone.  Josh went up to him and I anxiously waited in my car trying to answer Abby's many questions "why doesn't he have any shoes?" "why doesn't he have a shirt?" "Why is daddy giving him bread?" "What are those marks on his body?" etc....Josh got back in the car and said he wasn't asking for food but a ride.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ACK&lt;/span&gt;! My brain instantly shuttered.  Josh gave him the bread. Got in the car. And we drove away.  Now here I sit at the computer 14 hours later typing about this when I should be sleeping.  I guess I'm still convicted...confused...ashamed...confused........."When you have done this for the least of these...."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did we have room in our car- my brain said no, but honestly the answer was yes. Did I want that man, young man, dirty man, in my car with my three kids? No. Hell no.  Did the guy look dangerous? No...just really dirty. Is it that I didn't want to get my seats dirty? Did I not want to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;inconvenienced&lt;/span&gt;? Was it reckless to let someone like that in your car?  Should have we made room and let him in our car and given him a ride and trusted God to keep us safe?  I guess I feel like the bread was something, but somehow I can't rest with myself right now. Like the bread &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; enough to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pacify&lt;/span&gt; the shame I felt at avoiding him and I felt convicted to so something, but not too much??  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now I'm just getting really tired and foggy, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;rambly&lt;/span&gt;.  My questions to you: 1- what would have you done? 2- what do you think we should have done....3- how would #1/#2 answers change if that dirty man had been &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jesus&lt;/span&gt;, or your brother, or your son? He's someones son....hm....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-7611459811282473048?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/7611459811282473048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/08/moral-delima-what-to-do.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7611459811282473048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7611459811282473048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/08/moral-delima-what-to-do.html' title='Moral delima- what to do?'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-4584813311584835119</id><published>2010-06-27T20:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T20:11:14.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A new project</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I am so blessed to have this time off with Josiah, my last baby.  I think since I know it's my last one I'm really enjoying it, aside from the extra long recovery- that or I'm finally getting the hang of this mommy thing since it's my third!  The only real trouble I'm having is that my brain feels useless right now and my body is taking a beating.  All the time sitting and nursing gives me too much time to think, with nothing much to think about or plan- which is slowly driving me nuts.  I always have something I'm working on or planning or thinking and right now- I don't. When to have kids? done. When to buy a house and how much to spend? done. Get a family car? done.  This leaves me with 2 options. 1- a new project for work or 2- a new project for home.  Well I'm not ready to think about work yet so I'm starting to play around with #2. Here are some ideas that although they seem like great ideas at 2am, I'm just not sure they are feasible right now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Make enough hand made blankets, crafts, etc- to sell at craft fairs this winter before Christmas. Let my creativity flow, make some extra cash.....but where to start?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Write a children's book and have my mom or brother illustrate it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Look at going back to school for either a teaching degree (high school science), or anthropology- something I love, but didn't think I could make a career out of it so I chose engineering which has worked so far. Another reason I never made French my major.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Have a garage sale. Clean out the house of stuff and see if anyone will buy it! Toys, clothes, furniture, etc. Lots of work. Worth it for the extra cash?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Plan a road trip with my mom.  We've been talking about doing that, but right now I'm not sure we have the finances to do it this year.  I'm also not sure I have the patience to do it with a newborn....maybe I could write a book afterwards "Oh the places you can nurse"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Any other ideas? Shoot them my way.....practical or not it will at least give me something new to mull over in the wee hours of the morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-4584813311584835119?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/4584813311584835119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/06/new-project.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4584813311584835119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4584813311584835119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/06/new-project.html' title='A new project'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-4090493110678830356</id><published>2010-05-29T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T19:29:19.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain Connections</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;Yes I am type A...and I know that surprises everyone!  Thanks to this I love to analyze, prioritize, list, and understand "why?".  Hence why I had to back track to figure out how the heck I started thinking about a childhood memory....here's the connections my brain made in about 5 minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;What a thunder storm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;Kind of like the one in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;shawshank&lt;/span&gt; redemption when Andy escaped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;Andy was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; good- wow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;The library he built was really cool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;I love that part when that one guy is singing along to hank &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;williams&lt;/span&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;Man I wish they played a little Hank on the radio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;Brooks and Dunn have a song with a line in it "Hank it up a little let's rock this bar"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;same song, another line about "I'm a George &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;jones&lt;/span&gt; junkie"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;George...wow that's a name you don't hear much anymore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;George Jones, George Straight- do I even know any other Georges?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;Had a neighbor George &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Claussan&lt;/span&gt; growing up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;He lived in a yellow house&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;Once when they were gone my brother and I watered &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; lawn for them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;We left the sprinkler in once place too long and created a sink hole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;Hm...I wonder how that ever turned out?  Larry you remember???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-4090493110678830356?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/4090493110678830356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/05/brain-connections.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4090493110678830356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4090493110678830356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/05/brain-connections.html' title='Brain Connections'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-6100923637894443135</id><published>2010-05-27T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T21:51:47.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby daze</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;Life with Josiah has been good. He is the easiest baby thus far in his 11 days on this earth.  He already is above his birth weight as he is a good eater, mostly every 4 hours which is nice.  Having him so close to Nehemiah, without giving my body a break was crazy.  I almost cracked! But now on the back side it's nice to know my pregnant days are over and now I can look forward to enjoying my little family.  I've missed time with my husband. I've missed doing my daughters hair in the mornings. I've missed being able to pick up Nehemiah.  I've missed being able to walk up the stairs without getting out of breath (almost there).  I've missed feeling like "me"---and it's all starting to come back. In fact, in spite of normal labor healing, I feel better now that I have in months! months I tell you!  I feel like I just completed the craziest triathlon that I could put my body through and now I"m like GLAD that is over and WOW can't believe I did that!  I'm now looking so forward to so many things:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;Getting my body back into shape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;Biking/Backpacking/Hiking with Josh and the kids&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;Playing chase&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;Doing girly things with Abby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;Watching "the boys" grow up so close in age together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;Wearing any pants/shorts that are not stretchy waist:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;Drinking a glass of wine once in awhile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;So many of these things are still way out in the future, but I can't help but start to think of all the fun things we will do as  family of 5.  I guess I can start to imagine the future more now that I know Josiah was our last baby. In fact, I think that is a huge reason I can/am enjoying him so much b/c I know it's my last one...sniff sniff...yeah yeah!  Yes I'd love another little girl, but not enough to go through pregnancy again or think about all the finances we'd need to have another one.  I am so blessed with the three I have, and I know I'll have my hands full!  I'm glad I am off work so long, but I know by the end of the summer off with Josh and the 3 kiddos I will start to look forward to going back to work.  Maybe not the craziness of the launches that will await me when I return....but I enjoy my work and honestly? I'm a better mother when I have that time away from the kids- with something that stimulates and challenges my brain.  Plus, I guess I know the people teaching my kids are more qualified in the "development" part of their education than I am.  Abby just got her year end evaluation and she is doing fabulous!  She is one of the youngest in her class having moved up to the 3-4 yr old room in August when her 3rd bday wasn't until late November.  I'm amazed at all she has learned at her preschool, amazed.  Plus she is so caring with her brothers.  She loves to play with Nehemiah, sometimes too rough since he isn't even 18 months yet. And she watches out for him and tries to teach him things too.  And she loves loves loves Josiah.  Holding him, helping bathe him, getting his pacifier, watching him, etc.  She's going to be the 2nd mother to her brothers, whether they like it or not;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;ok...it's late and I really should be sleeping while Josiah is sleeping.  Night night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-6100923637894443135?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/6100923637894443135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/05/baby-daze.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6100923637894443135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6100923637894443135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/05/baby-daze.html' title='Baby daze'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-4938941290639621713</id><published>2010-05-17T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T15:01:17.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Josiah Dean Howard</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/S_G8ZjnWAdI/AAAAAAAAALE/E7D0VVD69OM/s1600/Josiah+Dean+Howard.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472362169474875858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 310px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/S_G8ZjnWAdI/AAAAAAAAALE/E7D0VVD69OM/s320/Josiah+Dean+Howard.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Josiah Dean Howard was born on May 16th at 4:05am. He was 8lbs 9oz and 20.5" long. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a id="myphotolink" href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=30451749&amp;amp;id=1550036320"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The highlights of his birth? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sat May 15th, sent home from hospital b/c he was facing the wrong way and I wasn't progressing in labor.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sun 2am woke up with severe labor pains.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;3:35am checked into hospital, was 7cm dialated&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Got edpidural put in, but no time for actual use of drugs.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Water exploded, hitting wall 6 feet away making nurses say "Oh my God!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Told to push once....his head crowned quickly&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Told to STOP pushing b/c the doctor wasn't there&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stopped pushing; however, he came out anyways&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;4:05am nurses caught Josiah&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;4:10 am doctor saunters in saying "You could have given me more warning"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We are all home and doing well. Tired but oh so blessed...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-4938941290639621713?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/4938941290639621713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/05/josiah-dean-howard.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4938941290639621713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4938941290639621713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/05/josiah-dean-howard.html' title='Josiah Dean Howard'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/S_G8ZjnWAdI/AAAAAAAAALE/E7D0VVD69OM/s72-c/Josiah+Dean+Howard.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-7158828046776089865</id><published>2010-04-27T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T19:56:01.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Waiting Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Well...now the official waiting game begins.  25 days left until my "due date" of May 23rd.  Each pain is more of a hm...could it be...rather than "ahh that's normal pregnancy".  I have yet to pack my hospital bag, and then I think of my friend Jenn who had her third kid 3 weeks early and I realize it's possible.  Personally I would be SHOCKED if this kid came any earlier than 1 week.  My first kid was 9 days late and we had to really push her out.  No dilation or water breakage with her.  My second kid was 2 days early, with 1 cm dilation showing up only 2 days before.  Both times I went to bed late, and woke up in the wee hours of a Sunday morning with cramps.  My daughter waited until that afternoon to be born, and my son arrived 4 hours after we arrived at the hospital.  Josh is nervous this kid will pop out faster than we'll have time to get to the hospital.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;If it's during the week day- the kids will be in day care until grandparents can pick them up. No problem. Josh gets last minute sub and comes home to pick me up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;If it's during the night- the kids will be sleeping and we'll wait to leave for the hospital until one of our amazing friends can step over here and watch them until the grandparents arrive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;If it's during the weekend/evening- we'll have to wait until friends can come over and watch the kids until the grandparents show up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;We can make it to the hospital in 20-30 minutes depending on traffic, and as we've just done this, we know where to go:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;I feel like this one will come close to his due date, but when he decides to come- watch out- as there are no more muscles to help keep him in since my body just went through this 14 months ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-7158828046776089865?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/7158828046776089865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/04/waiting-game.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7158828046776089865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7158828046776089865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/04/waiting-game.html' title='The Waiting Game'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-7609630622800340115</id><published>2010-04-12T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T13:15:33.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So I had several weird dreams last night. I can't say that any of them were disturbing or horrible, just really random, weird and felt like it actually happened. I totally had to set myself straight this morning and realize they were just dreams.  I'm only sharing b/c so many of my friends/family know these people and how weird these will sound...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;1. Was talking to my parents about 4th of July and how we weren't planning on camping with 3 little ones, especially one that is 1 month old and nursing at night which is hard in a tent- trust me I did it with nehemiah.  They started talking how they got everyone in our family individual cabins, and ours had 2 rooms so we could have one for us and one for the kids. Only they reserved them for 5 nights, in omaha nebraska.  I was very shocked they did this without talking to us, although camping in a cabin sounded fine- in omaha?  Then they dropped a bomb shell. Nate Jenkins, your old friend, contacted us and asked if we'd all come out to his wedding. We planned our 4th of july around his wedding and everyone is going..we were going to keep it a surprise from you.  Plus we'll see our nebraska relatives on the 5th.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Reality? T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;his is totally weird and out of character for my parents. Plus-I haven't spoken to or heard from Nate in like 7 years! Bizzaro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;2. I was at "my house" in an enclosed front porch area talking very familiarly with Jim and Becky Sanchez. We were talking about babies (go figure) and they said something about small babies vs. large ones.  I said how my sister in law, Christine has to deal with that all the time- and yet her daughter is developmentally on track or ahead of her age, just petite.  They looked shocked that I knew Christine, and were even more shocked when I said, "in fact...she's sleeping inside b/c she is so tired from being pregnant and I'm watching Ellie for her".  Then they wanted to see her and I wouldn't let them in b/c I didn't want to wake her up.  I peeked inside and she was awake so she came outside and squealed when she saw them, as if it had been years. Only it wasn't Christine, it was Alli, her sister in looks- but in my heart/head it was Christine.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Reality? It wasn't my house.  I haven't seen Christine's parents in a long time.  I would never keep her from seeing them.  Way weird.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;3. I had a dr. apt (which I did today and everything was normal) and my doctor looked really run down.  She had been delivery babies at the hospital for like 2 days straight.  She said I had placenta privia (sp?) and that the baby had actually shifted out of position and now was really high- and moved my due date out by like 2 months!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Reality? my dr. apt today was fine. I'm fine. The baby is fine. My doctor looked normal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-7609630622800340115?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/7609630622800340115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/04/weird-dreams.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7609630622800340115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7609630622800340115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/04/weird-dreams.html' title='Weird dreams'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-4934189346682407649</id><published>2010-03-22T09:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T09:55:34.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to my 1yr old Son!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/S6eXwAiUtXI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Gf42yBa-X7U/s1600-h/IMG_4292.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451492724988753266" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/S6eXwAiUtXI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Gf42yBa-X7U/s320/IMG_4292.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Nehemiah is 1 yr old today- WOW. (notice his first shoes? Black converse...yeah baby)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;His little personality is just shining through. Quiet, rarely fussy, constantly moving, and determined. So far discipline and the word NO mean nothing to him. If you give him a spanking he just sits and looks at you afterwards like "are you done? can I go back to what I was doing now?". I think we'll have our hands full.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;He has his doctor appointment tomorrow- but at 9 months he was already 21 lbs and 31" long. He is a big boy that is getting harder and harder for me to carry now that Isaac seems to be just as active in the womb as Nehemiah was!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Goodbye bottles. Goodbye formula. Hello sleeping in the same room with Abby. They will share a room for about a year or so until Isaac is ~1. From there on out Nehemiah and Isaac will share a room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;This weekend is a family birthday to celebrate this little guy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;He is walking, sometimes very fast, now. Has 9 teeth. Drools constantly. Eats constantly. Does not nap (like his father at the same age) but sleeps 11.5-12 hours straight at night. Loves to bop to music and laugh with his sister. He adores Abby and she is such a wonderful big sister. I pray it will always be so. No one can make him laugh as much as she can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Happy Birthday little guy....I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-812b151af96991a" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0812b151af96991a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331184405%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D288345D59A88EFAD84BE5DA6F6CD3D2CBB9AEFC7.4452B9B33D1C8160EAE85E2DAF67F3C6FDFB4309%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D812b151af96991a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DjE6SHrHWcaUHtN0rO9BX1KhZGYY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0812b151af96991a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331184405%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D288345D59A88EFAD84BE5DA6F6CD3D2CBB9AEFC7.4452B9B33D1C8160EAE85E2DAF67F3C6FDFB4309%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D812b151af96991a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DjE6SHrHWcaUHtN0rO9BX1KhZGYY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-4934189346682407649?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/4934189346682407649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/03/happy-birthday-to-my-1yr-old-son.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4934189346682407649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4934189346682407649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/03/happy-birthday-to-my-1yr-old-son.html' title='Happy Birthday to my 1yr old Son!'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/S6eXwAiUtXI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Gf42yBa-X7U/s72-c/IMG_4292.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-3754236453452820482</id><published>2010-03-16T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T08:55:02.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'>5 weeks and counting</title><content type='html'>5 weeks until I'm off work- yeah:) Josh is worried I'll be bored and missing that "human interaction" and I'm not so sure. It's true the last 2 times I almost went stir crazy, but I work from home so much these days I think I'm used to it. I really enjoy the time by myself at home to get things done at my pace.  I'm glad the next 5 weekends are busy too- it's exhausting but helps the time go by faster.  Friends visiting, Nehemiah's 1st bday party (oh my), Easter, our 6th anniversary, the volunteer event I'm leading at work, and my replacement from China coming to stay for a week to get face to face hand off training.  Whew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then hopefully a month of peace, sleep and relaxation before Isaac makes an appearance. I know he'll probably come early being my third and so close to my second that everything is stretched out- but I pray he comes on time or late. I really really am looking forward to that month off before he comes to "rest" up and get everything ready.  But babies come when they will and I just pray he arrives safely.  I also hope there is enough time for the grandparents to get here:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh is worried we won't make it to the hospital on time. Nehemiah came 6 hours after the pains started, and only 4 hours after we were at the hospital, thankfully.  I really have no worries about it at all- maybe I should- maybe I will the closer it gets- but I feel pretty relaxed about this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a doctor apt tomorrow. My glucose screening came out fine- stupid test.  Then the last week of march/first week of April I'll have another ultrasound to look at the position of the baby, etc.  yeah:) i'm still dreaming I'm having twins, although there has been no signs to comfirm this at the doctor office.  So I'm looking forward to confirming, once again, it's just one little one in there;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to my 6 months off, but realize the first 3ish  months will not be a "break".  The closer this birth gets the further away that seems.  I'm really excitted to hold this little one though and see his personality develop.  Abby is our drama queen who lights up our house with songs and "let's play". Nehemiah is our quiet, easy going, stubborn little man who is quick to smile and slow to fuss. he adores abby and no one can make him laugh more than she can.   Abby has curly blonde/brown hair, blue eyes and dimples...Nehemiah has brown hair with hazel/green eyes and no dimples.  What will Isaac look like?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-3754236453452820482?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/3754236453452820482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/03/5-weeks-and-counting.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/3754236453452820482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/3754236453452820482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/03/5-weeks-and-counting.html' title='5 weeks and counting'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-633848780532681262</id><published>2010-03-02T19:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T19:33:00.578-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wishful thinking? Nightmare? Or mommy intuition?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;Ok so here I sit at the computer with a really achy back and crampy abdomen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;The thoughts on this range in my head....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;OH MY it's the baby &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;(yeah I'm done with work and can be off)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;oh CRAP it's the baby &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;(holy crap! It's too early for him to come. I'd be leaving work in a mess!!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;Hm...I need exercise &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;(I guess I could get up and walk around more)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;I really should get off my butt and move around &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;(I should start work earlier tomorrow and take time to go to the prego water aerobic class at the YMCA tomorrow)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;Is there anyway I can weasel a massage out of Josh? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;He's tired because he's in the middle of CSAP testing- ICK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;Maybe I should take a nice long hot bath&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; Augh. Walking all the way upstairs, filling the tub is so much work. And what if it's just uncomfortable now that I'm bigger? All that wasted water and effort for nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;Maybe I have to go to the bathroom? &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Seems like I always have to go these days....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;I should try a hot pack or ice pack- &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;which one on what part will feel the best? And can I use heat on my belly or do I need to stay away from that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;Maybe I just need more water- &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Augh then I'll be doing #7 all night long.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;I think I have more things to do than just sit here and think about how much my lower back and abdomen hurt. &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Off to play scrabble on facebook (any takers?) and put my feet up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-633848780532681262?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/633848780532681262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/03/wishful-thinking-nightmare-or-mommy.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/633848780532681262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/633848780532681262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/03/wishful-thinking-nightmare-or-mommy.html' title='Wishful thinking? Nightmare? Or mommy intuition?'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-3434385750123734790</id><published>2010-02-16T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T10:11:46.804-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Olympics, by Shamree</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;On our nice weekend away to San Diego (so nice we didn't want to come back) we got to watch a little of the Olympics which was a treat as we don't have TV.  However, in the midst of all the accomplishments, sorrows, struggles, and victories I realized that these athletes train for years...and it's not so unlike parenthood. You devote yourself to the training, weird schedules, body &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sacrifices&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;frustration&lt;/span&gt; for years.  So...after careful consideration I'd like to submit the Olympics, as I'd like to see them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Events for Babies-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;1. Pacifier throwing (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;judged&lt;/span&gt; on distance and creativity)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;2. Undressing (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;judged&lt;/span&gt; purely on how fast they can get everything off)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;3. Kitchen &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;disassembling&lt;/span&gt; (how many cabinets and drawers they can empty in 2 &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;minutes&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;4. Crib hurdling (how long it takes them to climb out of a crib)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;5. Dog chasing (how long it takes to catch a dogs tail, by crawling)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;6. Stair climbing (how fast they can climb up, and back down 15 stairs)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Events for Parents-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;1. Changing diapers in the dark (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;judged&lt;/span&gt; on speed, thoroughness, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;amount&lt;/span&gt; of baby crying)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;2. Driving marathon- you will need to find a pacifier thrown, give a bottle, and rub a babies &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;forehead&lt;/span&gt; until they fall asleep- while driving, without causing an accident.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;3. kitchen clean up- how fast you can reassemble your kitchen after baby &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;event&lt;/span&gt; #3 above.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;4. Mule event- how many bags you can carry &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;with your&lt;/span&gt; child for 1/2 mile.  Judged on the total weight you can carry, and speed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;5. Bottle making- how well you can get out of bed, down the stairs, across the kitchen floor full of toys, make a bottle and get to your crying kid- in the dark. Timed trial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;6. Car clean up.  How fast you can make your car presentable. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Vacuuming&lt;/span&gt; up crumbs, cleaning sticky stuff off the windows, and removing toys and car seats so 4 adults can go out to dinner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Combined Events-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;1. Stroller pushing- how fast you can push your stroller with your child in it in a 1/2 mile race.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;2.  How fast you can prepare, feed, and clean up after- your child at dinner. Child must be eating finger foods.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;3. bath time- how long it takes to completely bathe your child. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;judged&lt;/span&gt; on how little water is outside the tub, how little crying there is, and how little water resides on you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So folks...if you are interested in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;competing&lt;/span&gt; please just let me know for which events. I plan to have this start, as soon as I have time to make it happen- &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;haa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;haa&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-3434385750123734790?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/3434385750123734790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/02/olympics-by-shamree.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/3434385750123734790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/3434385750123734790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/02/olympics-by-shamree.html' title='The Olympics, by Shamree'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-4100253569962166581</id><published>2010-02-11T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T18:52:24.238-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm an egg</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;I have concluded that I'm an egg. I'm 3 things in one, a mother, a worker, and wife- I'm also jelly and unstable on the inside and my exterior is liable to crack easily and spill out all the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;goopy&lt;/span&gt; stuff on the inside without warning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;It's been so long since I've felt like me that I'm not sure if I even remember me, or if I'm just grabbing onto a fragment of my imagination and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;romanticizing&lt;/span&gt; it even as we have a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;tendency&lt;/span&gt; to do when we &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;reminisce&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Will I ever be rational again? Will I ever go more than 2 days without crying? Will I ever sleep more than 2 hours at a time, or more than 6 hours at night? I know that I'm a mom, and soon to be a mom of 3 but are any of these requests unreasonable? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;If one more person tells me to treasure these days I think I'll vomit.  And that is easy to do in this third pregnancy still- trust me.  There are precious moments yes....agreed.  But most days I'm too tired to even take notice....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-4100253569962166581?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/4100253569962166581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-egg.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4100253569962166581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4100253569962166581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-egg.html' title='I&apos;m an egg'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-8883230939641096667</id><published>2010-01-19T07:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T07:50:37.175-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The houses I stare at</title><content type='html'>Who lives in the houses I stare at daily from my kitchen/dining room window? Are they having a good day? Are &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; kids scrambling to get ready to go to school? Are they changing diapers like us? Are they married, divorced, single, together? Would they be good friends? Do they like to play cards?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live in this small community with no community feel. Something seems so terribly wrong with that. I hate not knowing my neighbors on my street, let alone the people whose backyards I see so clearly every morning, lunch and dinner. (and all the snack times I'm in the kitchen).  It's like I want to put up a big sign on my back deck "Hi! Good morning! How are you? Have a great day!"  Or something. Wouldn't that be funny? I wonder if anyone would respond in kind or just think I'm plain nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a flood/creek area behind us with a walking trail so the houses I stare at are ~300 yards away (??) but still...I can see them and they see me.  There has to be some neat kindred souls over there that would be great friends.  If nothing else I am sure there are people over there that could use my prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How has life gotten so big that we don't even know our own community anymore? It makes me sad and I feel as though I am missing out on something so basic and so vital to my core.  Am I the only one?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-8883230939641096667?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/8883230939641096667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/01/houses-i-stare-at.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/8883230939641096667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/8883230939641096667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/01/houses-i-stare-at.html' title='The houses I stare at'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-1705488895631189850</id><published>2010-01-13T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T11:52:07.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Depression again??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;So yesterday was a really weird emotional day. Nothing prompted it. Nothing bad happened. It was a regular Tuesday- but by the time I picked up my baby and came home I was a mess. I had no motivation to do anything but lay on the couch or cry.  My post partum depression lasted 2 months while weaning Abby, and 2 months while weaning Nehemiah- it's been almost 2 months since I've been on anti-depressants and haven't needed them.  Then yesterday hit like a brick wall- what the heck? I spent last night as an insomniac- crying and cannot for the life of me find the reason that my brain desperately wants. Josh said "honey, you're pregnant".  Helpful, but not a reason for the flood of tears and helplessness I felt last night.  It was possibly one of the worst depression nights I've felt in a long time.  No suicidal thoughts at all, just udder helplessness- with nothing really wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;I was hesitant to even post this or share it for fear of many things:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;My brother in law and sister read this periodically. they haven't talked to me in almost 4 years. My first thought is they read this to spy on me and take joy when I'm suffering and laugh when things are hard b/c I think they must hate me. Then I thought- that must be silly. They wouldn't take joy in my suffering would they?  It's hard to know since they walked away from our family and apparently don't miss us. I don't understand that. I may never understand that as my family is my rock and core of who I am. Yes we fight, but I can't imagine walking away from them and not celebrating birthdays and holidays- or having my kids know their aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents.  That is irreplaceable. And I guess if they want their updates from my blog and not from me in person- then so be it. I have nothing to hide.  This is my space.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;I don't want people all worried about me depressed and pregnant. Yes it sucked last night and so far today. No I'm not suicidal. Yes I'm calling my doctor to see if I need to get on anti-depressants again (HUGE SIGH). Yes I need prayers. No there is nothing else I need right now- thank you all though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;It's hard to write about this b/c it feels like a weakness. For me this is especially that is hard.  Everything is always fine. Don't let anyone see your emotions. You can handle everything yourself. It's not that bad. etc etc etc....screw it.  I am having a hard time right now and I could care less who knows about it (hence #1) but maybe it will get me more prayers and understanding if I'm acting wacko.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;I hate having to depend on medication to be ok.  I want to scream- THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME- but the uncontrollable tears and thoughts of falling deeper and deeper into a black hole with only my snoring husbands hand as a life line to the land of "normal" have convinced me otherwise.  I HATE taking medication. Vitamins ok. But anti-depressants??? AUGH.... and yes I know I'm broadcasting this to everyone. I guess being "sane" for the sake of my children and husband are more important to me than trying to "handle everything" or just "trying to pull myself out of it".  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;Last night Abby came to say goodnight to me. (this broke my heart) I was in the bathtub taking a hot bath to calm down. With tears streaming down my face I look up and see her. Quickly I tried to control my tears. She says "Mommy, I'm so sorry you are tired. I love you." then as she walks away she turns and says "I hope your bath makes you feel better".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;For that. I'll call my doctor and take the meds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-1705488895631189850?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/1705488895631189850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/01/depression-again.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/1705488895631189850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/1705488895631189850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/01/depression-again.html' title='Depression again??'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-8666300119381232146</id><published>2010-01-11T09:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T09:40:46.457-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So proud...and discouraged</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have to say that I'm so proud of all my friends who are making getting in shape and losing weight &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; goals right now.  Guys and girls alike are hitting the gym and losing the pounds. Something I long to do.  You all encourage and discourage me at the same time. I'm so proud of all of you- and yet...it just makes it that much harder for me. Selfish I know.  Yes I know I'm pregnant. But I'm still overweight. I'm trying to keep my weight gain to a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;minimum&lt;/span&gt;- &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; not really trying- but haven't had to yet as I was so sick for the first few months. Now I have to try. I'm just so tired all the time and I know my body goes after food to feed the baby, and give me the energy I need just to function each day.  I'm so ready to have my body back for just me. No pregnancy. No nursing. And able to focus on what I want to eat, not what the baby will allow me to eat- or keep down I should say as I'm still sensitive and throwing up on a whim. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ick&lt;/span&gt;.  I'm so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;excited&lt;/span&gt; for this pregnancy, but it seems like it will be forever until I can really focus on me losing weight as all my friends are doing right now. Again so very proud of all of them and I pray for them and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; goals- but for this moment...it's personally all very discouraging to me. I'm just going to continue to gain weight- then go without sleep for several months- before I can even begin to think about getting my body back to anything I'm happy to see.  Sigh...as I said before..2010 is looking to be a very long year....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-8666300119381232146?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/8666300119381232146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-proudand-discouraged.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/8666300119381232146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/8666300119381232146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-proudand-discouraged.html' title='So proud...and discouraged'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-6472666992958714822</id><published>2010-01-10T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T20:11:53.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Day</title><content type='html'>Today is just another Sunday with sick kids. We decided to stay home as both kids are "snotty", Josh has all but lost his voice, and I'm still recovering from being sick too.  We aren't as sick as we were last year thankfully- but lots of little sickness happening all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally got a date night on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt;- or more like an afternoon. We took off and saw Avatar in 3-D, which Josh was dying to see. It was really good- however, I think from not watching &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; at home combined with the 3-D gave me a headache:(  It was a good movie though. Kind of a Fern Gully, Dances with wolves,  Sci-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Fi&lt;/span&gt; flick.  Then we were going to go out to eat at Red Lobster (which I've been craving Lobster!) and forgot it was a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt; night. 40 min wait. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;AUGH&lt;/span&gt;- not for a pregnant woman who was HUNGRY...so we got our food to go, but not before I felt like I was going to pass out or get sick in the hot over crowded bar- so I waited in the car for Josh to come back with our food.  We got home in time to put Abby down and for me to scarf down my lobster, and coconut shrimp- which promptly came back up:(  Hence to say that I'm over my lobster craving.  I ended up eating cereal for dinner. bummer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we decided to take the kids to the YMCA. Nehemiah loved the pool! He splashed and kicked liked crazy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;even though&lt;/span&gt; he kept splashing himself in the face, he was smiling and splashing away! Abby wears her life jacket in the deeper warmer pool that is nearby and can touch in the 3 foot section with her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tippy&lt;/span&gt; toes- and LOVES it:) She is so proud. She will also jump off the edge into the pool and go all the way under and pop back up &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;...I'm so proud of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day....another week....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-6472666992958714822?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/6472666992958714822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/01/another-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6472666992958714822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6472666992958714822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/01/another-day.html' title='Another Day'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-1899705734708783675</id><published>2010-01-04T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T13:25:12.332-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome 2010...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Welcome 2010....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;2009 was a good year that ended in a whirlwind for us with finding out I was pregnant (with a 4 month old) buying a new house, moving in over Thanksgiving- which happened to by my daughters 3rd birthday, and doing the 5 days away from home for Christmas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;This year we wish for nothing more than to spend as much time as possible enjoying our new (1st) home. I think it really came to be our home when we came back from the holidays. Coming home never felt so good as it did knowing it was our own house and not just another rental.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;This next year will be fun and challenging as we will add another member to our family in May- another summer of adjusting our children to their new sibling and lack of sleep for mommy. At least I have 6 months off work to look forward to- without having to work part time. Thank God for the $8,000 first time buyers tax credit from 2009.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I do have to say that after such a busy November and December that I'm looking forward to a break from large groups for awhile- am I becoming an introvert???? More than likely it's just being pregnant and getting harder to sleep comfortably away from home, especially with 2 kids- one of whom is teething- that don't sleep well away from home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Please come visit us though...we LOVE company. It's our social outlet as getting out just doesn't happen as much as it used to. We have upgraded our accommodations from our last house:) Just ask our parents and brother/sister in law....much more comfy:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I do have to say that in looking at 2010....aside from having another wonderful child...I'm already looking forward to 2011.... this may just be a long long year.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-1899705734708783675?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/1899705734708783675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/01/welcome-2010.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/1899705734708783675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/1899705734708783675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2010/01/welcome-2010.html' title='Welcome 2010...'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-2668638618223777720</id><published>2009-12-22T11:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T11:50:47.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultrasound pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SzEih_YCczI/AAAAAAAAAKY/uO4GYvkBsiA/s1600-h/Howard+Baby+3_3D_laughing.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418149794046702386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 310px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SzEih_YCczI/AAAAAAAAAKY/uO4GYvkBsiA/s320/Howard+Baby+3_3D_laughing.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here are the pictures of our wonderful little bundle of joy #3- another little boy!  The top image is my favorite and looks like he is laughing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SzEid9YkJbI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/1DmoDNMhaDE/s1600-h/Howard+Baby+3_3D_hands+by+face.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418149724792563122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SzEid9YkJbI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/1DmoDNMhaDE/s320/Howard+Baby+3_3D_hands+by+face.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is another 3D image and he is smiling with his hands up by his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SzEiTN6OY2I/AAAAAAAAAKI/aEZX_B8E8O0/s1600-h/Howard+Baby+3.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418149540250149730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SzEiTN6OY2I/AAAAAAAAAKI/aEZX_B8E8O0/s320/Howard+Baby+3.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;This one is of him lying on his back looking up, and you are looking at him from the side so you see his profile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enjoy....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-2668638618223777720?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/2668638618223777720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/12/ultrasound-pictures.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/2668638618223777720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/2668638618223777720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/12/ultrasound-pictures.html' title='Ultrasound pictures'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SzEih_YCczI/AAAAAAAAAKY/uO4GYvkBsiA/s72-c/Howard+Baby+3_3D_laughing.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-3866759662656069567</id><published>2009-12-21T14:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T14:39:24.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a boy!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;After waiting 4.5 months we found out today that we are having another little boy!  It's funny. Now that I know what we are having I am so excited. I want to plan the baby room (he'll share with his older brother). I want to get a name picked out NOW. I want to sort through baby clothes.  Either way I would have been this excited, but it's nice to finally be over joyed about this new little addition to our family. I can't imagine the chaos that a third child will bring into our lives, especially since the parents will now be out numbered- time for a zone defense I guess.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;What a huge blessing.  I'm already seeing "blue" everywhere!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Grow strong little one...I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-3866759662656069567?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/3866759662656069567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/3866759662656069567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/3866759662656069567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-boy.html' title='It&apos;s a boy!!!'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-6205070643206041384</id><published>2009-12-21T07:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T07:32:15.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So apparently people follow me on my blog, that never talk to me- too weird.  Why don't people just pick up the phone and call or drop a friendly email?  So for all those nosey people out there, and those that actually care to know what's new in my life here we go-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've been over my post-partum depression for a month now- yeah:) It seems to just hit for about 2 months when I wean a kid and then suddenly it's gone- thankfully:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We are moved in and settled into our new and wonderful house. I love it. Yes there are little things I'd like to change, but who doesn't think that when they own their house?  I love having people over and am so glad that we now have a comfortable spare room/bathroom so guests are no longer sleeping on our futon in our living room:) Although they didn't complain...this will entice people to come over and stay more- come grandparents come...we love the help and the kids LOVE having you around:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I still have my job at Agilent. I feel horrible for all those that don't anymore and am glad many people landed on thier feet- but pray for those that haven't yet.  I feel more blessed this Christmas than I have felt (even though I was) in a long time.  So many people are in need, or maybe just in need of a friendly smile if nothing else.  I wish people I knew felt easier about asking for help. It would make it easier to help them instead of trying to do it sneaky and guessing if they need help or not.  I pray that if I ever need help physically, emotionally, or financially that I'm not too proud or ashamed to ask.  It's especially hard for us Landis's I know that...but I also know without a doubt that any of my friends or family would help me on a dime- and have in the past- if I ever needed it and I just wish others felt free enough (even in confidentiality) to just ask.  Please never hesitate to ask us for help...we are here. We love you all.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We find out in 1.5 hours if boys or girls will rule this howard household...dun dun dun....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I can only think of a girls name, Phoebe Alane and for a boys name no clue on the first but the middle will be after my dad, Dean, his middle name (and my brothers too:) ).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If we have a little boy he and Nehemiah will be so close they can share a room, clothes, etsc....but if we have a little girl maybe Miah won't feel like he got kicked out of being the baby too soon as he will  be the only boy.  As long as they are healthy I don't care. Honestly I have no "intuition" on either. I've had 1/2 of the symptoms I had with Abby and 1/2 the symptoms I had with Miah...so right now only God knows....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Update coming soon:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-6205070643206041384?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/6205070643206041384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/12/updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6205070643206041384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6205070643206041384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/12/updates.html' title='Updates...'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-6751311319930245006</id><published>2009-11-04T19:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T19:45:28.348-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Old...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I don't care if nobody understands my feelings right now. I can hardly understand them myself. I just know that buying our first home is not giving me the joy I always anticipated. I know that is due to the post-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;partum&lt;/span&gt; depression I'm going through- but it's still hard for my normally logical brain to comprehend why I can't be over joyous with this amazing house. It's more than I expected for our first home.  It's overwhelming.  In addition buying a formal dining room set complete with china hutch it just made me feel so old. not mature, but old.  It's something I would only expect to see in my parents house or grandmothers house, not mine.  Don't get me wrong, I've always wanted one and am so happy that we got a brand new set for only $750 due to a divorce (not happy on that), but it sits in the garage reminding me that I'm now the parent with a mortgage, 2 kids+, job, and things that only my parents used to have.  I see how Abby thinks we are so old and we are her parents. But I don't feel as "together" as my parents seemed to me when I was growing up.  I look around my messy house, wrinkled laundry, unmade bed and just feel like I'm pretending to be an adult. But now with the house and new furniture I just feel old. Again not mature, just old. I'm not sure I like it one bit at all.  I know I should be so grateful that all this craziness is for good reasons, but my logical brain can't outweigh the heaviness in my heart still.  I sure hope this post-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;partum&lt;/span&gt; depression is over soon, or it will rob me of any joy of buying our new house and having our third child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-6751311319930245006?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/6751311319930245006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/11/just-old.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6751311319930245006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6751311319930245006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/11/just-old.html' title='Just Old...'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-7539316993105783051</id><published>2009-10-20T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T13:30:27.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This pregnancy still isn't real</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;This pregnancy still &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; seem real to me, aside from the fact that I am so tired and Josh is having to do almost everything around here.  I still can't believe I have another little life form inside me- and that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; heart is formed. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Their&lt;/span&gt; teeth are formed. And they are 1 inch "tall" now.  I will love this baby. I'm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;excited&lt;/span&gt; Abigail and Nehemiah will have another &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sibling&lt;/span&gt;. But I'm still not ready. I have 6 1/2 more months to "get ready" I guess.  It makes me feel guilty that I'm not anxiously awaiting this little one like the last 2. Especially with all the people I know who are trying to have a baby, or can't have children.  That makes me feel even worse.  Maybe I have so much going on right now with buying a house my mind is elsewhere. Maybe once we set up the crib and baby room it will be more real. Maybe when I feel those first little kicks inside me. Oh I pray it's so. This child is a blessing- but oh so unexpected.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-7539316993105783051?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/7539316993105783051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-pregnancy-still-isnt-real.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7539316993105783051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7539316993105783051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-pregnancy-still-isnt-real.html' title='This pregnancy still isn&apos;t real'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-1102738585585866443</id><published>2009-10-19T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T07:46:39.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotional about our move</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;"&gt;I saw 10 deer between our house and dropping off Nehemiah this morning. It made me sad. I doubt I'll see so many deer in our new neighborhood as it's much further from the mountains. Then I drove by Ute valley park, the open forest area, and the playground that are all so close to our house, and I started to tear up. Granted- I'm pregnant. But this is the first house we've lived in where we love our neighbors, and neighborhood, and both are so close to work.  I'm really going to miss that so much. I'm not looking forward to a 20+ minute commute (which I know is average for most people) and getting to know new neighbors who may or may not be nice.  Our landlord also posted a "for rent" sign in our front yard- ouch! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; we come or go it's staring at us and reminds us of our upcoming move.  I'm very very &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;excited&lt;/span&gt; about our new house...but for today...I'm really really sad we'll be moving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-1102738585585866443?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/1102738585585866443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/emotional-about-our-move.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/1102738585585866443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/1102738585585866443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/emotional-about-our-move.html' title='Emotional about our move'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-6179519993308489307</id><published>2009-10-08T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T18:33:21.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just another night</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;It's just another night here in the Howard household.  Nehemiah is asleep peacefully in his crib. Josh is reading Abby her "5" books before bed. And I'm anxiously awaiting my "friends" on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;FB&lt;/span&gt; to play &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; next word on scrabble so I can play again. I'm addicted. I usually have about 15 games going at any one time to keep busy. Tonight, I'm keeping busy to ignore the sticky table with syrup on it from this mornings breakfast, and the crumbs on the floor from dinner, and the laundry waiting to be folded, and the toys not picked up, and the shoes that need to be polished, and the fridge that needs to be emptied out of yogurt long since expired.  Yes tonight I'm just sitting here- loving life, but not my messy house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-6179519993308489307?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/6179519993308489307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/just-another-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6179519993308489307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6179519993308489307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/just-another-night.html' title='just another night'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-2076661208231821430</id><published>2009-10-07T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:29:00.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Post partum depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Well it finally hit.  In weaning my son the post-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;partum&lt;/span&gt; depression hit me.  Yuck.  It happened last time with Abby when I weaned her too- at least we knew what to look for this time and I'm on medication- safe for the new baby- to help me out.  It sucks having to take it, but at least it should help my mood and overwhelmed feelings.  yes there is a lot to do right now, but we'll get through. My husband is amazing.  He has been a pillar of support with this whirlwind of a third pregnancy so far- I'm so blessed.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;. Back to work. Focus &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Shamree&lt;/span&gt;. Focus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-2076661208231821430?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/2076661208231821430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/post-partum-depression.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/2076661208231821430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/2076661208231821430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/post-partum-depression.html' title='Post partum depression'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-5408868162694925501</id><published>2009-10-05T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T18:36:05.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hard night</title><content type='html'>Tonight is just a hard night. I am so tired I can't do anything. I can't focus at work. I'm not a good mother. I'm not a good wife. I don't even take care of my self like I should. I just have no desire to do anything but sit around and watch movies. And those bring little pleasure with all the crap out there these days- let me tell you. For someone without TV I get &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;appalled&lt;/span&gt; at what they call PG-13 these days. Anyways, that is off the subject. I am pretty sure this phase of the pregnancy will end, or at least get better in 5 &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; more weeks when I enter my second trimester. But today. Getting to tomorrow seems hard. I feel so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;guiltily&lt;/span&gt; about everything right now. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Guilty&lt;/span&gt; that I'm not a good worker, that I'm not being a good mom to the 2 kids that need me and to the 1 kid to come. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Guilty&lt;/span&gt; that my husband has to do everything around here when he needs support from a rough day too and I have nothing to give him. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Guilty&lt;/span&gt; that all I want to do is crawl into a hole and not come out. Again- I am so tired. Maybe a good night sleep will make everything look better in the morning- because right now- it's pretty dark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-5408868162694925501?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/5408868162694925501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/hard-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5408868162694925501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5408868162694925501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/hard-night.html' title='Hard night'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-7900416161599412912</id><published>2009-10-04T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T17:43:12.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pregnancy cravings top ten</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;Green apples with sharp cheddar cheese or salt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Spicy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Chinese&lt;/span&gt; food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Spicy&lt;/span&gt; wings with ranch dressing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;Banana cream pie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mochas&lt;/span&gt; with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;peppermint&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Peppermint&lt;/span&gt; tea with milk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Peppermint&lt;/span&gt; chocolate Luna bars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;Bagel, sausage, egg, cheese &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sandwich&lt;/span&gt;- especially from Einstein bagel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;Banana bread (haven't satisfied this one yet. Tried to and forgot the frozen bananas overnight so thus had to throw them away *sigh*)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#330099;"&gt;Anything by power of suggestion. Mention 1 thing 1 time, and I'm all over it :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-7900416161599412912?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/7900416161599412912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/pregnancy-cravings-top-ten.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7900416161599412912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7900416161599412912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/pregnancy-cravings-top-ten.html' title='Pregnancy cravings top ten'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-290648641972355003</id><published>2009-10-03T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T19:04:31.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday night- what?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Once again it's a Saturday night- and once again I am ready for bed at 8:01pm.  Most people are finishing up dinner, getting ready to go out or watch a really cool movie- and I'm ready for my bed.  I miss the days of going out with my girlfriends and dancing. I miss calling up a friend and saying- "hey, want some ice cream?". I miss the days of being able to stay awake into the double digits of the evening, and even &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;possibly&lt;/span&gt; the single digits again.  Where did the time go? Will I ever feel the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;excitement&lt;/span&gt; about Saturday nights again and all the possibilities it can hold for fun? *sigh* Not tonight.  I'm off to bed.  Have fun everyone. Drink a drink for me and dance a dance for me- and stay out just 10 minutes longer, because you can:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-290648641972355003?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/290648641972355003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/saturday-night-what.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/290648641972355003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/290648641972355003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/saturday-night-what.html' title='Saturday night- what?'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-7671061715397609823</id><published>2009-10-02T12:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T13:05:40.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How NOT to catch a family of mice</title><content type='html'>Attempt #1: D-CON traps that worked last year for us have proven to be useless.  And yes, that is mice poop ALL AROUND the trap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388096043368332274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsZczdioO_I/AAAAAAAAAJI/wvRL3VMhgj4/s320/IMG_4008.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Attempt #2: Electric shock traps. Caught 1 mouse, but alas...the rest of the family is smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388095830355863426" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsZcnEAf54I/AAAAAAAAAJA/KABT5dwBQsM/s320/IMG_4006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Attempt #3: Sticky traps with cereal on them....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388095561453370914" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsZcXaRJfiI/AAAAAAAAAI4/weVAX9G_Afo/s320/IMG_4005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Attempt # 4: Peanut butter on a can, on a stick, on a bucket, full of water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388095313892942498" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsZcJACJIqI/AAAAAAAAAIw/yJDf2SfrAU0/s320/IMG_4004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsZb5axZtlI/AAAAAAAAAIo/tlX3saPEro0/s1600-h/IMG_4011.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And our latest attempts.... the upgraded version...fully automatic, but has a tendancy to meow a lot:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388095046192576082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsZb5axZtlI/AAAAAAAAAIo/tlX3saPEro0/s320/IMG_4011.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsZbpw3CYZI/AAAAAAAAAIg/ivnEgYZOnqE/s1600-h/IMG_4005.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsZbfp7cXmI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Z5mbirCCPZw/s1600-h/IMG_4008.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-7671061715397609823?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/7671061715397609823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-not-to-catch-family-of-mice.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7671061715397609823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7671061715397609823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-not-to-catch-family-of-mice.html' title='How NOT to catch a family of mice'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsZczdioO_I/AAAAAAAAAJI/wvRL3VMhgj4/s72-c/IMG_4008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-54389462275608216</id><published>2009-10-01T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T14:40:01.341-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Howard Baby #3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsUhVbwP9-I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/JRVczxqj-Qo/s1600-h/Howard+Baby+1.3.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 245px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387749181329766370" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsUhVbwP9-I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/JRVczxqj-Qo/s320/Howard+Baby+1.3.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Here is the ultrasound of our new little one to join us sometime around May 23rd, 2010. The little dark spot above the baby sac is a blood clot- at first the doctor said it was TWINS- but then got a second opinion. We aren't sure if the blood clot will be an issue or not- so we need prayers. She said it will either pop and I'll start spotting, which could cause a miscarriage (but isn't likely as it hasn't happened yet) or it will just stretch as the baby's sack stretches and come out after birth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Either way, we saw the baby's heart beating and he/she is only 1/4 of an inch big! How amazing!  Our next appointment is at the end of October.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-54389462275608216?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/54389462275608216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/howard-baby-3.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/54389462275608216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/54389462275608216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/howard-baby-3.html' title='Howard Baby #3'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/SsUhVbwP9-I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/JRVczxqj-Qo/s72-c/Howard+Baby+1.3.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-3569268486777328576</id><published>2009-10-01T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:20:00.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Nursing Mothers Quandry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What to do?  My doctors tell me to wean my 6 month old. My tired body tells me to wean. My soul wants to nurse him as long as possible for the benefits to him, but not at the expense of the new little life forming inside me.  What to do?  La leche group says it's fine, many nurses say it's fine, but my doctors advice is hard to ignore.  Maybe it's the mothers guilt of not taking care of my baby in my arms because of the baby in my belly.  Maybe it feels like he is already getting kicked out of the "baby" of the family because of this new member that won't make an appearance for 7+ months yet.  I have no idea what to do. I know what my soul wants to do and it's fighting against my head. Talk about a headache..... oh what to do????&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-3569268486777328576?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/3569268486777328576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/nursing-mothers-quandry.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/3569268486777328576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/3569268486777328576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/10/nursing-mothers-quandry.html' title='A Nursing Mothers Quandry'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-222815121639827516</id><published>2009-09-29T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T07:58:28.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired once again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;yes yes, I am tired once again. The pregnancy dead-in-your-tracks tiredness is upon me, and with a nursing 6 month old and energetic almost 3 yr old, I think it's worse this time around than the first two. People say have kids while you are young, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;geez&lt;/span&gt;- do you know how old I feel? I'm tired all the time and can barely wait to put my kids to sleep by 7:30 so I can crawl into bed too. Thus, if you call us after 8pm we won't answer b/c we are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;asleep&lt;/span&gt;- or at least I am and and Josh is probably reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of it all, my dear baby Nehemiah is going through teething and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;separation&lt;/span&gt; anxiety. So when we leave him at night, he falls asleep beautifully, but if he wakes up at night he screams until he gets mommy or daddy in the room. Then when we tiptoe out, thinking he's asleep, he screams again. Plus he wakes up in pain when his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Tylenol&lt;/span&gt; runs out- poor little guy. I guess I feel the most guilty as he won't be my baby for long as we'll have another baby when he is just over a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure if I want a little boy so they can share rooms, and be really close- or a little girl since I just had a little boy. But then he'd be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tortured&lt;/span&gt; with and older &lt;u&gt;and&lt;/u&gt; younger sister:) Actually either is fine with me as long as they are healthy. I pray for that daily as this new little one is developing almost without my knowing. At 6 weeks he/she is the size of a lentil bean, 1/4 of an inch. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Their&lt;/span&gt; heart is beating 100-140 times a minute which is twice the times mine does- wow. how amazing? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Their&lt;/span&gt; little heart is already going strong. Bless you little one. Bless you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-222815121639827516?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/222815121639827516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/tired-once-again.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/222815121639827516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/222815121639827516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/tired-once-again.html' title='Tired once again'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-1168125161112456493</id><published>2009-09-27T18:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T18:53:45.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unexpected Blessings- take 2</title><content type='html'>I still can't believe that I'm pregnant again. I keep asking myself "How couldn't you know???" and then I realize that I have a 6 month old and many of the "signs" are the same as just coming off pregnancy. I think we are due the end of May, but the doctor will help confirm that on Tuesday. At least my kids will be born in different years right? Let's just pray it's not twins!!! Ok I am off to bed now and I pray I don't dream of twins....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-1168125161112456493?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/1168125161112456493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/unexpected-blessings-take-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/1168125161112456493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/1168125161112456493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/unexpected-blessings-take-2.html' title='Unexpected Blessings- take 2'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-7901084145126165546</id><published>2009-09-27T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T18:53:28.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unexpected Blessings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is it true that the best blessings come in small packages? I hope so. I am pregnant again- and although it is a huge unexpected blessing- it scares me to death. I guess, like the guidance from my uncle- I just need to take some quiet time and meet God and let him do the miraculous- as right now I barely have the energy for all the "blessings" in my house as it is. I love my husband, my almost 3 year old daughter, my 6 month old son- but most of all I sometimes just miss me! I am blessed to have the family I do but selfishly I was not ready for this next blessing. I was ready to dive into work and prove I'm still a great employee after just coming OFF maternity leave to a &lt;u&gt;new&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;u&gt; &lt;/u&gt;&lt;em&gt;manager. I was ready to start losing those excess pounds that have crept up on me. I was ready to have normal &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;eyesight&lt;/span&gt;, to drink &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;caffeine&lt;/span&gt; or wine as I felt like it. I was ready to sleep through the night.... and here I am starting all over again. I have to say that this ceases the "discussion" between Josh and I about "if" we were going to have more children, but poor &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Miah&lt;/span&gt;- he won't get to be my baby for long. I do have to say that Josh has turned the 180 on me and now is asking questions like "So, do you think it's a boy or girl?" and "I guess this confirms we need a bigger house" and I am now the one that is reeling. My good friend Gladys told me that God has to remind me that I am not in control- even though I think I am and try to be- which I know surprises EVERYONE that knows me. I have to say that I've spent the last week trying to plan, calculate, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;re-plan&lt;/span&gt;- and yet I end up on my knees each time as I just don't know how to work it all out. I know how I want everything to work out- but the black and white just doesn't add up yet. Looks like a good time to just sit back for awhile, enjoy my family as it is, and let God take control.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-7901084145126165546?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/7901084145126165546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/unexpected-blessings.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7901084145126165546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/7901084145126165546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/unexpected-blessings.html' title='Unexpected Blessings'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-5135554436151920812</id><published>2009-09-22T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T09:37:32.701-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Lord works in mysterious ways. He is continually letting me know that I am not in control, to the point of breaking me.  Things I thought as important are being reduced to mere evil necessities. Items I never thought would happen are imminent. In losing myself I am finding it. And in spite of the amazing blessings that are headed our way, I am scared to death.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-5135554436151920812?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/5135554436151920812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/lord-works-in-mysterious-ways.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5135554436151920812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5135554436151920812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/lord-works-in-mysterious-ways.html' title=''/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-6123450884376751220</id><published>2009-09-21T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T07:00:20.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confirmed. I'm going crazy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;It is confirmed.  Black and white. I am going crazy. I don't think there is anything else that could happen right now that would make it crazier. I don't want to share everything that is going on right now....it would take way too long and somethings are just to private...but oh my goodness. If this all doesn't break me I will come out stronger than superwoman, minus the cape.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;God help me or I will end up in the nut house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-6123450884376751220?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/6123450884376751220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/confirmed-im-going-crazy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6123450884376751220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/6123450884376751220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/confirmed-im-going-crazy.html' title='Confirmed. I&apos;m going crazy!'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-4911052308575583211</id><published>2009-09-17T08:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T08:10:40.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are there any normal people out there?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#006600;"&gt;I really am starting to wonder if there are any normal people out there. Especially in the work place.  Integrity, professionalism, honesty all used to mean something.  Am I just becoming jaded as I have been in the same company for 5 years now and I'm "wiser" in the ways of the world? Or has my company changed due to all the layoffs? Or is it my remote employee status starting to rear it's ugly head now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#006600;"&gt;I have just seen so many backstabbing, rude, cheapskate shortcuts over the last few months that I am starting to wonder if this is where I really want to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#006600;"&gt;I am praying that someone, somehow today will resort my faith and opinion of people I work with as this morning I have my doubts......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-4911052308575583211?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/4911052308575583211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/are-there-any-normal-people-out-there.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4911052308575583211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4911052308575583211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/are-there-any-normal-people-out-there.html' title='Are there any normal people out there?'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-638446007257460854</id><published>2009-09-08T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T18:42:34.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy world, Clean kitchen</title><content type='html'>The world is a mess but my kitchen is clean. I'd say I am coming out a head on this one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-638446007257460854?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/638446007257460854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/crazy-world-clean-kitchen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/638446007257460854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/638446007257460854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/09/crazy-world-clean-kitchen.html' title='Crazy world, Clean kitchen'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-8905868677403582528</id><published>2009-08-12T10:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T10:08:17.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you serious???</title><content type='html'>2 days ago I could work from home just fine. Yesterday i called our help desk to get connected to Oracle, a program I needed and had been updated since my maternity leave. Today, I can't connect to work at all from home. I stayed home as I have bronchitis so I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; infect anyone at work and I can take it easy. Well....I'll be taking it REAL easy now as I can't work. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Augh&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-8905868677403582528?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/8905868677403582528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/08/are-you-serious.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/8905868677403582528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/8905868677403582528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/08/are-you-serious.html' title='Are you serious???'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-938712529629623886</id><published>2009-08-10T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T08:56:11.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First day back.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Here I sit at work on my first day back full time and I'm trying to NOT think of my baby that I left at day care.  I know I'm a much better mom when I'm working. I know he is in good hands. I know I was looking forward to this time of separation and time for me, and yet....I miss him.  Maybe it's because work isn't what I left. It's no longer a fun place to work, but rather just a job.  People have changed. The culture here has changed.  The impending doom of low orders and rumors of being sold off are hanging over our heads.  The one thing that is a blessing is that I know that whatever happens God is in control.  He helped me control the tears that threatened to come as I drove away from the Day care home I left my baby at.  He is in control of my job and whether my company gets sold or not.  He is in control. I am not. And for a type-A control freak....that is weird, but I am ok with it.  Ah....back to work.....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-938712529629623886?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/938712529629623886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/938712529629623886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/938712529629623886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day-back.html' title='First day back.....'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-9130496932545473242</id><published>2009-07-29T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T07:51:01.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The best laid plans.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;As my part time status is quickly coming to a close I realize that I need more than a few hours of sleep a night and am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;desperately&lt;/span&gt; trying to train my 4 month old son to sleep through the night, without a pacifier.  It seemed like a noble idea a few days ago; however, after 3 nights of wrestling with him (what a mental image huh?) I am wondering who will come out the victor.  I need to win this battle though so I can't give up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;even though&lt;/span&gt; I scarcely have the energy to do my work and play with my 2 year old who just wants mommy to have some energy left over for her, poor dear.  I have 3 more days to train him.  Then we have a 10 day whirl wind of activities and then Josh and I both start back to work full time and the kids are in day care.  Wow......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-9130496932545473242?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/9130496932545473242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/best-laid-plans.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/9130496932545473242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/9130496932545473242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/best-laid-plans.html' title='The best laid plans.....'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-5157014050555420490</id><published>2009-07-28T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T19:58:02.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6600cc;"&gt;HAA HAA! I have finally mastered one little peice of blogging technology (if one can call it that)...my slideshows of my husband, kids, and beloved Story People.....Please take a moment to enjoy the pictures as it took me a few HOURS to figure out how to post them:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-5157014050555420490?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/5157014050555420490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/haa-haa-i-have-finally-mastered-one.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5157014050555420490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5157014050555420490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/haa-haa-i-have-finally-mastered-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-5447246395691594466</id><published>2009-07-27T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T09:08:40.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pacifier/Sleep training</title><content type='html'>I know I'm not a bad parent, but letting my child cry it out for 10-15 minutes is heart breaking.  I know it is just a few short days of hell to get to this wonderful place where they sleep well and don't need a pacifier again (Praise God) but in the short run it's hard.  I know I will not miss trying to search backward with one had frantically for a pacifier while driving with the other though:)  Here is to a few days of craziness for blissfulness to follow.....Lord help us all....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-5447246395691594466?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/5447246395691594466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/pacifiersleep-training.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5447246395691594466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5447246395691594466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/pacifiersleep-training.html' title='Pacifier/Sleep training'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-4093102500894424308</id><published>2009-07-26T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T19:08:30.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rest please????</title><content type='html'>Not that anyone is really reading this yet, but I feel the need to scream- REST PLEASE!  I am so tired it seems all the time that I know the real me will pop out if I could just get more than 2 hours of sleep at a time, and more than 4-5 hours a night.  I'm busy all day and it seems all night....I wish I could just sleep for like 6 hours straight- is that too much to ask?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-4093102500894424308?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/4093102500894424308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/rest-please.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4093102500894424308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/4093102500894424308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/rest-please.html' title='Rest please????'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-2308547981043227994</id><published>2009-07-22T12:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T12:53:53.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Family Reunion Survived!</title><content type='html'>So yet another family reunion has come and gone....and I have to say for a gathering of 20+ people from 4 generations, 3 states, and 2 countries- it was fantastic.  Josh and I had a wonderful time hanging out with family, playing tennis, going to the pool- and just relaxing. Now 1.5 weeks before another trip- back to Santa Rosa for Josh, Miah and me for work.  Abby will get to stay with grandparents while we are gone....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-2308547981043227994?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/2308547981043227994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/another-family-reunion-survived.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/2308547981043227994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/2308547981043227994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/another-family-reunion-survived.html' title='Another Family Reunion Survived!'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-5196557576466931511</id><published>2009-07-14T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T20:21:22.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let's hope&lt;/strong&gt; and pray that our long anticipated 1 week vacation up at Port Ludlow, WA with my mother-in-laws entire family is a fun week.  &lt;strong&gt;Let's hope&lt;/strong&gt; that my son will not be awake from 11am-4am the night before we leave like last night.&lt;strong&gt; Let's hope&lt;/strong&gt; that we figure out how to transport frozen milk w/out it unthawing before we leave at 8am.&lt;strong&gt; Let's hope&lt;/strong&gt; we actually leave at 8am so we can get good seats since they don't pre-book seats for families traveling with kids.&lt;strong&gt; Let's hope&lt;/strong&gt; that we don't return exhausted.&lt;strong&gt; Let's hope&lt;/strong&gt; that the whole family gets along since it's the first whole family reunion in like 15 years. &lt;strong&gt;Let's hope......&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-5196557576466931511?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/5196557576466931511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/lets-hope.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5196557576466931511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/5196557576466931511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/lets-hope.html' title='Let&apos;s hope'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4182739544098868110.post-9198551259282214282</id><published>2009-07-14T14:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T15:02:38.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My first blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I feel like I am stepping off a cliff into an unknown territory called "blogland".  I hope and pray this is a good place to just be me, and recapture that little bit of me that has been lost, or exchanged for Mommy, Wife, Employee, Friend, Sister, Daughter, Cousin, and somewhat "nursing cow" to my 3 month old.  (Yes I just said that).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I'll start to add pictures, etc soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Enjoy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Let the blogging begin!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4182739544098868110-9198551259282214282?l=justshamree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/feeds/9198551259282214282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-first-blog.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/9198551259282214282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4182739544098868110/posts/default/9198551259282214282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justshamree.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-first-blog.html' title='My first blog'/><author><name>Shamree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05303523666825780155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6Neiq_1Eouk/TUBm06QUObI/AAAAAAAAANE/Z8lsbi2etDc/s220/58747_1610413308330_1476155340_31617897_4167840_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
