<?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-6751785646593159667</id><updated>2011-10-08T07:11:46.604-07:00</updated><category term='Weekend Warriors'/><title type='text'>Three's Company</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>229</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-8979319708150753763</id><published>2011-06-24T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T14:31:51.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sand in my eyes.</title><content type='html'>We all just got back from a week long trip to the beach.&amp;nbsp; We've been home for days but yet I still have a huge suitcase sitting in my hallway fully packed with sandy clothes, shells, flip-flops, and seashells.&amp;nbsp; I think I'm secretly hoping I'll just throw it back in my car and head right on back down for another extended stay.&amp;nbsp; Zeke loves the beach sooooo&amp;nbsp;much.&amp;nbsp; I mean, all kids love the beach, but I really think my kid has saltwater in his veins.&amp;nbsp; When asked if he'd rather go to the boardwalk or the beach, he'll say the beach every time.&amp;nbsp; He loves to stare into shallow areas of water and find any signs of life.&amp;nbsp; This past stay, we collected about a thousand teeny tiny clams, a gazillion brine shrimp, and tons of sea hermit crabs.&amp;nbsp; Sadly, every single one of them died after a day in Zeke's yellow beach bucket.&amp;nbsp; There were BIG tears when he realized nothing was moving around anymore in his bucket.&amp;nbsp; How did I stop the flow?&amp;nbsp; We went and bought 3 land hermit crabs and a nice big cage to bring them home in.&amp;nbsp; The word "sucker" is written on my forehead...I know it and embrace it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a mixed bag of emotions with the beach.&amp;nbsp; I love relaxing on my chair and listening to the waves, but the water petrifies me.&amp;nbsp; There's so much unknown life in there.&amp;nbsp; Life that I don't want snapping hold of my toes if I'm swimming around in those dark waters.&amp;nbsp; So, I stay only ankle deep in the ocean and enjoy the breezes and salt air instead.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, we're pool rats.&amp;nbsp; No more beach for a bit now that Zeke has started summer basketball.&amp;nbsp; I'm going to try to squeeze in a few more beach trips in between basketball games just so that the summer doesn't fly by in a big haze.&amp;nbsp; I missed my baby too much all school year to let these precious summer days whip on by.&amp;nbsp; And if you need to get in touch with us,&amp;nbsp;call after 10 or 11 a.m.&amp;nbsp; We're on summer schedule baby...we wake up when we wanna'!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-8979319708150753763?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/8979319708150753763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=8979319708150753763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8979319708150753763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8979319708150753763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2011/06/sand-in-my-eyes.html' title='Sand in my eyes.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6683045030425096775</id><published>2011-05-28T16:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T16:05:11.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Snot fair</title><content type='html'>Summer is officially here...or at least unofficially.&amp;nbsp; Memorial Day pretty much signifies the beginning of the warm weather fun for us.&amp;nbsp; Zeke only has a few more days of school scattered out over the next 2 weeks, then it's down to the beach for a bit.&amp;nbsp; I'm ready to chill out and breathe in some salty air.&amp;nbsp; Problem is, Zeke isn't.&amp;nbsp; He's been battling strep throat for a month now.&amp;nbsp; He has been on 2 antibiotics and as soon as he's done taking the course of them, he gets sick again a day later.&amp;nbsp; Today he's fighting a fever of 101 which is completely out of the ordinary for him.&amp;nbsp; He's been lying around for hours now.&amp;nbsp; SOOOOO not Zeke.&amp;nbsp; I feel bad because he's most likely going to miss fireworks tonight with his cousins, the opening day of our neighborhood pool tomorrow, and then recover just in time to head back to school on Tuesday.&amp;nbsp; :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6683045030425096775?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6683045030425096775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6683045030425096775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6683045030425096775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6683045030425096775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2011/05/it-snot-fair.html' title='It Snot fair'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-2011031670347733509</id><published>2011-05-20T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T12:20:39.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mustard and Ketchup Please.</title><content type='html'>I picked up Zeke at school yesterday, as I normally do.&amp;nbsp; He presented me with a fabulous hand-drawn piece of artwork complete with a tree, tire swing, a big yellow sun, and some birds and bugs.&amp;nbsp; I told him how much I loved it and how great it was.&amp;nbsp; He promptly told me that all of the other boys were allowed to paint theirs...but he wasn't.&amp;nbsp; I asked him why.&amp;nbsp; His response?&amp;nbsp; Because he said "wiener".&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-2011031670347733509?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/2011031670347733509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=2011031670347733509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2011031670347733509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2011031670347733509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2011/05/mustard-and-ketchup-please.html' title='Mustard and Ketchup Please.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1279291272429853067</id><published>2011-05-18T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T10:26:18.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It is okay after all.</title><content type='html'>I don't write anymore.&amp;nbsp; And I'm not sure why.&amp;nbsp; There are still so many things to say, so many pictures to post.&amp;nbsp; But I guess the life stuff has gotten in the way.&amp;nbsp; I'll try to do better.&amp;nbsp; I'll try to keep you informed and updated on my insanely fabulous life. I promise.&amp;nbsp; I really do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Zeke turned six since we last spoke.&amp;nbsp; Cue the waterworks folks, because I just can't handle it.&amp;nbsp; He's....so....old.&amp;nbsp; I remember when my nephew turned six and I just thought he was a big kid at that point.&amp;nbsp; MY KID IS A BIG KID NOW.&amp;nbsp; WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.&amp;nbsp; I still try to pick him up and hold him on my lap like a baby on occasion...but his legs and arms dangle like jumpropes.&amp;nbsp; It's a shame.&amp;nbsp; It's a shame how fast it goes.&amp;nbsp; But what's the "it"?&amp;nbsp; Everyone talks about the "it" and how it's hard and fun and the best thing you'll ever do.&amp;nbsp; But no one can ever tell you what "it" is.&amp;nbsp; Here's my definition:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It&lt;/strong&gt; is the smile on his face when he wakes up and knows it's his birthday.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;It&lt;/strong&gt; is the hand that still feels kinda' small in mine when he grabs for it as we cross a street.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;It&lt;/strong&gt; is the wiggly tooth that he's so proud of.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;It&lt;/strong&gt; is the wonder and curiosity in his face as he carefully inspects a smooshed caterpillar on the sidewalk and happily calls the guts on the ground it's poop.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;It&lt;/strong&gt; is the joy he feels as he counts down the days to his first real summer vacation.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;It&lt;/strong&gt; is the feeling of it being okay that I'm picking up dirty underwear, socks, shorts and shirts that he so carelessly tosses when he's getting comfy under his blankie.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;It &lt;/strong&gt;is the feeling that this child will always know that I'm the only mom he'll ever have.&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt; It&lt;/strong&gt; is knowing that my life has a bigger meaning, that I'm a role model and a teacher of life to someone who is a clean slate.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;It&lt;/strong&gt; is baking a vanilla pound cake on a rainy Tuesday just because he'll eat half of it that same day....and I'll let him.&amp;nbsp; And &lt;strong&gt;It&lt;/strong&gt; is feeling unconditional love.&amp;nbsp; Love that will always be deep-rooted even when he has his own family to care for.&amp;nbsp; He'll remember that he had a mom who cared enough to hold his hand as he crossed the street, to bake pound cake for him...and let him eat half of it in a day, who picked up his dirty clothes with only the occasional yell, and who agreed that caterpillar guts on the sidewalk was actually caterpillar poop.&amp;nbsp; Or maybe he won't remember.&amp;nbsp; But I will.&amp;nbsp; And that?&amp;nbsp; That's what &lt;strong&gt;It &lt;/strong&gt;is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1279291272429853067?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1279291272429853067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1279291272429853067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1279291272429853067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1279291272429853067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2011/05/it-is-okay-after-all.html' title='It is okay after all.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3622570120707641053</id><published>2011-03-03T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T11:14:19.811-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ketchup</title><content type='html'>I like to make lists.&amp;nbsp; Without lists, I'd still be in the second grade trying to figure out what came after the soft pretzels at recess.&amp;nbsp; I need to know AND write down what comes next.&amp;nbsp; So, in honor of my love of lists, here are a few random ones:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that I'm obsessing over lately:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&amp;nbsp; trying to grow my nails to a length that I don't think is overly long and gross but long enough that I can peel a Band-Aid off a forehead quickly and effortlessly.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&amp;nbsp; Gum.&amp;nbsp; Trident has this new gum out that I love.&amp;nbsp; But as I said to McMahon, there just aren't enough pieces in the pack.&amp;nbsp; I wonder if candy.com carries it yet so I can buy it by the case.&amp;nbsp; It's nice...it's like a white tea/mint gum...very smooth and nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.&amp;nbsp; My feet.&amp;nbsp; I need to get them flip-flop ready.&amp;nbsp; I've been soaking, loofahing, Vaseline-ing...all the proper pampering techniques for getting a soft foot.&amp;nbsp; Soon, I'm going to treat myself to a mani/pedi and unveil these wheels of mine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.&amp;nbsp; Our basement floor.&amp;nbsp; We had a lot of water come in our basement a few months ago.&amp;nbsp; I decided that it was time for the carpet to go and for a new flooring option to be discovered.&amp;nbsp; After some thought and research, I decided on stained, decorative concrete.&amp;nbsp; It's an unbelievably cool look if you have a concrete floor....but the floor prep and staining process has been grueling.&amp;nbsp; It's almost finished, I love the look, and I can't wait for it to be totally dry so I can arrange my furniture again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT LIST...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things Zeke is obsessing over lately:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&amp;nbsp; Basketball, tennis, and skateboarding.&amp;nbsp; He is devastated that our basement has been out of commission due to the fact that it is his basketball court/tennis court/skateboarding floor.&amp;nbsp; It is because of his obsessions that I had to make sure our flooring choice was "sports friendly".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&amp;nbsp; Chocolate milk.&amp;nbsp; Still.&amp;nbsp; To the tune of 2-3 gallons of milk/week.&amp;nbsp; :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.&amp;nbsp; Buttery rye toast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEXT LIST:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things on our weekend agenda:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&amp;nbsp; Friday = going to take Zeke to see Rango with a school friend while trying to fit in a trip to my girlfriend's house to celebrate her birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&amp;nbsp; Saturday = Pauly and Zeke going to a special Sixers event where they are allowed to practice with the team.&amp;nbsp; Saturday afternoon will be Zeke's basketball game at the Y where Pauly and I are the winningest coaches the YMCA has ever seen.&amp;nbsp; GO NORTH CAROLINA (Zeke's team)!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.&amp;nbsp; Sunday = my Dad's 70th birthday party.&amp;nbsp; Can't wait for some good company and good food for a very special celebration!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out my recent pix.&amp;nbsp; Trying to keep my kajillions of followers caught up...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3622570120707641053?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3622570120707641053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3622570120707641053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3622570120707641053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3622570120707641053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2011/03/ketchup.html' title='Ketchup'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3666704130919581814</id><published>2011-01-09T18:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-09T18:05:53.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pasta for one.</title><content type='html'>I find obituaries shockingly fascinating.&amp;nbsp; I mean, how can a person live an entire lifetime then be summed up in a 6 sentence paragraph on page 17, section B of the local newspaper?&amp;nbsp; Fascinating, but sad.&amp;nbsp; And even sadder when the departed only gets a sentence or two.&amp;nbsp; Is that it?&amp;nbsp; That's where we end up?&amp;nbsp; Smooshed into a column with a Dave &amp;amp; Buster's two-fer advertisement glaring underneath?&amp;nbsp; How terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dwell on this today because it's been one year exactly that my friend Shari passed.&amp;nbsp; She left this world way too soon and left a barrage of friends stunned, sad, hurt, angry, and maybe finally believing.&amp;nbsp; Shari being gone reminds me to believe in life, believe in family and friends, and believe that I will be remembered once I'm gone.&amp;nbsp; I don't think I ever believed so strongly as I do today.&amp;nbsp; Is it Shari working some sort of magic on me?&amp;nbsp; Is it the fear of a 5 sentence life summary that makes me believe life must be lived before we die?&amp;nbsp; I'm still not sure, but each day I think I get a little closer to knowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shari probably deserved a whole newspaper to herself when she passed.&amp;nbsp; She was complicated, graceful, loving, devoted, and beautiful.&amp;nbsp; She was&amp;nbsp;a woman who was loved by many and who will never be forgotten.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of you today, S.&amp;nbsp; I was wishing I could meet you at Bucca for some spaghetti and chatter.&amp;nbsp; It's not the same without you here.&amp;nbsp; And I hope that makes you smile up there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3666704130919581814?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3666704130919581814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3666704130919581814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3666704130919581814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3666704130919581814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2011/01/pasta-for-one.html' title='Pasta for one.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7915312139415677208</id><published>2011-01-06T09:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T09:25:36.401-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strangers in the night.</title><content type='html'>The first week of the year is strange.&amp;nbsp; I have all these things in my head that I want to accomplish...but I have the same energy level as the last week in December.&amp;nbsp; Blah.&amp;nbsp; How does one get motivated and energized without ingesting near-toxic levels of caffeine???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week has begun lots more homework in Zeke's world.&amp;nbsp; Homework for Zeke = homework for me.&amp;nbsp; How do people do it that have more than one kid???&amp;nbsp; I mean, where's the time?&amp;nbsp; Here's how our night went last night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&amp;nbsp; 3:15 - pickup from school&lt;br /&gt;2.&amp;nbsp; 3:45 - get home, get snack, watch tv in underwear (Zeke, not me)&lt;br /&gt;3.&amp;nbsp; 4:10 - start getting dressed for tennis lessons&lt;br /&gt;4.&amp;nbsp; 4:20 - leave for tennis lessons&lt;br /&gt;5.&amp;nbsp; 4:22 - do a U-turn and come back home to get forgotten tennis racket&lt;br /&gt;6.&amp;nbsp; 4:50 - run into the gym for tennis lesson&lt;br /&gt;7.&amp;nbsp; 5:40 - leave gym&lt;br /&gt;8.&amp;nbsp; 6:10 - get back home and try to figure out dinner&lt;br /&gt;9.&amp;nbsp; 6:30 - slap a dinner of soup and grilled cheese on the table and hope for the best&lt;br /&gt;10.&amp;nbsp; 7:15 - get zeke's homework and bring it down to our home gym so he can do it while I'm on the treadmill&lt;br /&gt;11.&amp;nbsp; 7:30 - I'm on the treadmill, zeke's homework is sitting on the floor next to me, but he's playing basketball with Pauly&lt;br /&gt;12.&amp;nbsp; 8:00 - I freak out b/c it's 8:00 and homework hasn't been done, lunches haven't been packed, and teeth haven't been brushed&lt;br /&gt;13:&amp;nbsp; 8:05 - we go upstairs and start homework&lt;br /&gt;14.&amp;nbsp; 8:40 - still doing some online homework&lt;br /&gt;15.&amp;nbsp; 8:50 - shut down computer and force Zeke into the bathroom for teeth brushing and bed preparation&lt;br /&gt;16.&amp;nbsp; 9:05 - put Zeke in bed with t.v. on for "15 minutes" while I pack lunches and watch a little t.v.&lt;br /&gt;17.&amp;nbsp; 9:30 - was so involved in the Real Housewives rerun that I didn't notice it was 9:30 and my kid was still wide awake on a school night watching Spongebob Squarepants.&lt;br /&gt;18.&amp;nbsp; 9:35 - turn off all electronic devices in Zeke's room, say goodnight, and roll on into my bed&lt;br /&gt;19.&amp;nbsp; 9:50 - hear a noise, walk down the hall, and realize that Zeke has logged into his laptop and is playing Club Penguin under the covers&lt;br /&gt;20.&amp;nbsp; 10:00 - back to my bed after confiscating the laptop&lt;br /&gt;21.&amp;nbsp; 10:30 - check on Zeke and find that he's FINALLY asleep&lt;br /&gt;22.&amp;nbsp; 11-ish - somewhere in here I fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;23.&amp;nbsp; 3:22 a.m. - woken up by Zeke holding 4 teddy bears and a king-sized woobie...he wants to sleep in my bed.&lt;br /&gt;24.&amp;nbsp; 3:23 a.m. - let Zeke and his entourage in my bed, try to curl myself up into the tiniest ball of human ever so I can fit in between 3 dogs, the hubs, a 57-lb kid, and 4 teddy bears.&lt;br /&gt;25. 3:30 a.m. - everyone is asleep, I think I'm drifting off myself....and the doves all start cooing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;26. 3:31 a.m. - I'm still awake and start thinking about "stuff":&amp;nbsp; is it considered a murder if I flush all of the eggs that the doves keep laying?, should I try that laundry-thingy that lets you put your colors and your whites all in the same load?, did Zeke eat his lunch that I packed him or did he buy Doritos in the cafeteria and call it a day?, I really need to dump out that huge bag of unmatched socks and do some matching tomorrow, if it snows will the snowblower finally work?, am I getting enough fiber?, blah, blah, blah, blah....&lt;br /&gt;27:&amp;nbsp; 6:10 a.m. - start all over again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7915312139415677208?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7915312139415677208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7915312139415677208' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7915312139415677208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7915312139415677208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2011/01/strangers-in-night.html' title='Strangers in the night.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7394398655766651650</id><published>2011-01-02T15:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T15:19:58.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Post of the Year</title><content type='html'>It's January.&amp;nbsp; Already.&amp;nbsp; How'd that happen?&amp;nbsp; Thanksgiving, Black Friday, Christmas Eve, and Christmas.&amp;nbsp; Done in an instant.&amp;nbsp; Notice I rank Black Friday right on up there in "holiday status".&amp;nbsp; Can't go a year without it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our holidays were nice.&amp;nbsp; I promised myself I'd NOT get sick and I pretty much accomplished that.&amp;nbsp; I may have lived with a headache for a few stretches of time, but the Lupus didn't get the best of me.&amp;nbsp; I'm grateful for that.&amp;nbsp; And for family that seems to understand my limitations.&amp;nbsp; In the new year, I am determined to be healthier and more conscious of each day.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the spirit of the new year, I want to do a repeat of something I posted last year.&amp;nbsp; It's interesting and thought provoking.&amp;nbsp; Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2010:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Day:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;the day we flew into the Bahamas to celebrate my 40th birthday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst Day:&amp;nbsp;the day I dropped Zeke off for his first full day of Kindergarten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Decision:&amp;nbsp;to send to his current school and to allow him to do full time Kindergarten&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst Decision: to ignore the water problem in our basement after a heavy rain.&amp;nbsp; That ignorance led to a problem with mold and caused us to have to rip up carpeting, have a mold specialist come in, and tons more work that is still ongoing that I don't even want to talk about because it still annoys and tortures me to this day.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Realization:&amp;nbsp;that I want to start my own business&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst Realization:&amp;nbsp;that the new Lupus drug that has been approved by the FDA won't be too much of a benefit to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biggest Hope:&amp;nbsp;that I actually get a paying gig this year with my new business&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biggest Fear:&amp;nbsp; getting sicker.&amp;nbsp; But I'm not going to let that happen and will be responsible and timely about all of my doctor's appointments to be sure of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People I can't live without: Paul &amp;amp; Zeke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People I can live without: dead weights in my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Fashion Find:&amp;nbsp;a great pair of jeans that I can dress up or down and the uber-fuzzy gloves that Pauly and Zeke gave me for Christmas.&amp;nbsp; Oh, and my new socks.&amp;nbsp; I love socks.&amp;nbsp; And scarves.&amp;nbsp; And purses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst Fashion Find:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;a bracelet that I thought I loved and now I think it looks ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fashion Obsession:&amp;nbsp; Still purses but moving into socks and jewelry too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fashion Hate:&amp;nbsp; tights with Uggs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Food/Drink Find:&amp;nbsp; Coke Zero which I desperately want to stop drinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst Food/Drink Find:&amp;nbsp;-&amp;nbsp;Cici's pizza.&amp;nbsp; The. Most. Disgusting. Food.&amp;nbsp; Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food/Drink Love:&amp;nbsp; sauteed spinach and artichokes at Bertucci's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food/Drink Hate: any food with meat and any drink with milk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV Love:&amp;nbsp;Bridezillas, Jersey Shore, Big Brother, Real Housewives&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV Hate:&amp;nbsp; golf.&amp;nbsp; BORRRRRRRRRRRRING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Internet Love: petfinder.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Internet Hate: Twitter (don't waste your time telling me that you're about to take out the recycles. I'm not about to care.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Development:&amp;nbsp; Getting a part time job for about 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst Development:&amp;nbsp; realizing that the part time job I was so in love with was a complete waste of my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Investment:&amp;nbsp;my Tiffany necklace .&amp;nbsp; Love it and wear it most days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst Investment:&amp;nbsp; Most of the toys we've bought for Zeke this year.&amp;nbsp; All he wants to do is play basketball in the basement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Travel:&amp;nbsp; Bahamas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst Travel:&amp;nbsp; none.&amp;nbsp; I love travel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personal Empowerment: turning 40 and not really giving a crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personal Struggle:&amp;nbsp; letting Zeke grow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Accomplishment: Zeke and my marriage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst Failure:&amp;nbsp; trying to get Timmy healthier.&amp;nbsp; His poor little heart is still really bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I'm Ending This Year:&amp;nbsp; hopeful, scared, determined.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 2011 everyone.&amp;nbsp; May your year be filled with love, laughter and light.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7394398655766651650?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7394398655766651650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7394398655766651650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7394398655766651650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7394398655766651650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2011/01/post-of-year.html' title='The Post of the Year'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1168530615697691309</id><published>2010-11-14T14:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T14:46:04.038-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's on like Donkey Kong.</title><content type='html'>I've been letting my blog slip through the cracks of life.&amp;nbsp; When I started this little journey, I swore I'd be consistent...at least for the sake of Zeke.&amp;nbsp; I want to be able to look back and remember our times exactly the way I experienced them.&amp;nbsp; Pictures are great, but putting the memory into words?&amp;nbsp; Even better.&amp;nbsp; But, alas, life has gotten in the way.&amp;nbsp; It's the everyday that gets in the way, it seems.&amp;nbsp; Same old story.&amp;nbsp; I won't let it happen to my blog though.&amp;nbsp; Even though my life may not be that exciting to most, it's exciting to me.&amp;nbsp; It's fulfilling and happy and, yeah, sometimes annoying.&amp;nbsp; But if it weren't it'd be boring.&amp;nbsp; And for that reason, my blog will live, damn it!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of all the "everyday blah-blah-blah", I've begun something new...just for myself.&amp;nbsp; Now that Zeke is in school all day (it seems sooooo long that he's gone each day), I found that it was time to figure out just who I was again.&amp;nbsp; I started job-hunting.&amp;nbsp; I found something that I thought would be fun...but really, I wouldn't have been compensated as well as I feel I deserve.&amp;nbsp; I searched some more.&amp;nbsp; And I searched my soul.&amp;nbsp; What did I really, really want?&amp;nbsp; I knew first and foremost, I still wanted to be Mommy.&amp;nbsp; That's my full time job until he's on his own.&amp;nbsp; I swore to his little tiny face when he was just a newbie that I'd always be there when he needed me.&amp;nbsp; And for sure, it's still my priority, gladly.&amp;nbsp; But, I knew I needed something else in addition to Mommy-ness.&amp;nbsp; Something to drive me, use my skills, and make me feel like a contributing member of society again.&amp;nbsp; Pauly and I talked and brainstormed and mulled.&amp;nbsp; And after much deliberation, I think I've sort of just hatched a new baby.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; It's Beakers.&amp;nbsp; And Beakers will be awesome.&amp;nbsp; It'll be fun for me, fun for any kids that happen to benefit from a Beakers program, and fun to develop.&amp;nbsp; In a way, I'm pregnant again.&amp;nbsp; I'm starting to grow something new...something that has come from deep inside me and has been on my mind for a long, long time.&amp;nbsp; And I'll grow this Beakers baby into something great.&amp;nbsp; Just you guys wait and see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1168530615697691309?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1168530615697691309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1168530615697691309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1168530615697691309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1168530615697691309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/11/its-on-like-donkey-kong.html' title='It&apos;s on like Donkey Kong.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1573350493259484761</id><published>2010-10-11T15:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T15:19:45.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Ya.</title><content type='html'>What have we been up to?&amp;nbsp; Check out my new slideshow to the right...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1573350493259484761?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1573350493259484761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1573350493259484761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1573350493259484761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1573350493259484761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/10/hey-ya.html' title='Hey Ya.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6271688136484685323</id><published>2010-09-24T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T09:26:41.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Product Reviews</title><content type='html'>Being a hot mama blogger (ummmm...what?&amp;nbsp; did i really just say that?) has it's perks every now and then.&amp;nbsp; Certain people and companies want me (well, really, Zeke) to try their products out and give my opinion.&amp;nbsp; So, what it all boils down to is this:&amp;nbsp; Zeke gets a package in the mail every now and then, opens it in a very giggly manner, and plays for some undetermined amount of time with the contents of the package.&amp;nbsp; Now comes my job...I have to give feedback.&amp;nbsp; Did he like it?&amp;nbsp; Was it "dorky, mom"?&amp;nbsp; Was it yummy in the tummy?&amp;nbsp; Or was it REEEEEEEE-jected by my icky, picky 5 year-old?&amp;nbsp; Here are some results from our latest reviews:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hexbugs:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; um...hells yeah.&amp;nbsp; Let's just say the little mechanical critters are a go.&amp;nbsp; With Zeke and about 4 of his little friends.&amp;nbsp; They love them.&amp;nbsp; And really, they're just little battery-operated Legos, if you ask me...with a few plastic-y whisker/leggy things on the sides.&amp;nbsp; But, hey, the 5/6/7-year-old crowd thinks they're sweeeeet.&amp;nbsp; So be it.&amp;nbsp; Thumbs up for Hexbugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nature Valley Granola Bars:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; this one is simple.&amp;nbsp; He ate them.&amp;nbsp; He ate more.&amp;nbsp; And I was totally okay with him eating them since they were a healthy option to chips, cookies, candy, etc.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I love a product that gives back to the community when I spend Pauly's hard-earned money on it, so here are some nice details about what Nature Valley will do for all of us if we save our wrappers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Since the dedication of Yellowstone as the world’s first national park in 1872, America’s parks have been visited by hundreds of millions of people who marveled at their beauty, found peace in their wildness and shared their experience with others. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;However, these national treasures need care and support to help them flourish. Years of underfunding and environmental problems such as pollution and climate change are threatening our National Park system. To help preserve our national parks and ensure their existence for generations to come, join Nature Valley® and Patricia Shultz, internationally best-selling author of 1,000 Places to See Before You Die and travel industry leader, to help support the National Parks Project. This year, the National Parks Project will focus on restorative work at Grand Canyon, Yellowstone and Biscayne National Parks. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;To get involved, simply purchase a box of specially marked Nature Valley Bars and mail in your wrappers to the address below:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;National Parks Project&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;PO Box 450328&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;El Paso, TX 88545-0328&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nature Valley will not only recycle the wrappers, but will also contribute $0.10 to the National Parks Conservation Association (NPCA) for every wrapper received (up to $600,000 in total). To learn more about the National Parks Project and how you can make a difference, check out PreservetheParks.com today. And don’t forget to visit Nature Valley on Facebook or Nature Valley on Twitter to “Like” or “Follow” the brand. Facebook fans can enter to win a trip, as well as share photos and videos of their summer vacations. All of these sites will also feature updates on the restoration projects, as well as videos and pictures from “National Parks Project” volunteers. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;There are many other ways you can enjoy the natural beauty and diverse wildlife of our national parks this summer while supporting the cause. The easiest thing you can do to support the national parks is to experience them for yourself and share them with your family – remembering as always to “take only pictures and leave your footprints.” So grab your backpack, your boots and some granola bars and go soak in the scenery. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nature Valley provided Zeke (me) and one of my loyal readers a super-nice prize pack of goodies, including some tasty granola bars, a copy of Patricia Shultz's book, and an awesome water bottle through MyBlogSpark.&amp;nbsp; Yippeeeee...we all really enjoyed the package!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stay tuned for more reviews as Zeke submits his opinions....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6271688136484685323?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6271688136484685323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6271688136484685323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6271688136484685323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6271688136484685323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/09/product-reviews.html' title='Product Reviews'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6281281703220880781</id><published>2010-09-17T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T17:51:55.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And never look back.</title><content type='html'>No, I'm not apologizing for the looooooooooooooong gap in posts.&amp;nbsp; I've been busy, people.&amp;nbsp; It's been summertime.&amp;nbsp; Summertime means fun time and that equals no time.&amp;nbsp; To post that is.&amp;nbsp; But now things are coming to a screeching halt, so I'm back.&amp;nbsp; Tons of goodies have happened, so I'll do my best to summarize:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&amp;nbsp; Pauly, Zeke and I went on an awesome trip to Atlantis in the Bahamas to celebrate my BIG birthday.&amp;nbsp; That's all I'm going to say about just how "big" my birthday was.&amp;nbsp; For now, we'll call it my 23rd.&amp;nbsp; But the Caribbean was amaaaaaazing, the water was gorgeous, the relaxation was primo, and I'm ready to go back.&amp;nbsp; I love collecting those stamps in my passport...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&amp;nbsp; Zeke started school.&amp;nbsp; Full time school.&amp;nbsp; Big time SAD for me.&amp;nbsp; I'm still not sure if I'm actually coping or just muddling my way through the empty days.&amp;nbsp; All I know is that I horribly, terribly, ridiculously, insanely MISS my baby boy.&amp;nbsp; I wonder all day every day if he's okay, if he needs me for anything, if he's hungry, if he's thirsty, if he has to go to the potty, if he's too hot, if he's too cold, if he needs a tissue, if he needs a wet wipe, if he bumped his head and needs an icepack (very possible), if he wants me to read him a story, if he wants apples and peanut butter, if he wants to go to the park to ride his Razor Scooter, if he wants to play Club Penguin on his laptop, or if he needs a Band Aid.&amp;nbsp; Mostly I worry that my baby just needs his mommy to give him a kiss and tell him that he's the most fabulous kid on earth and that he's so smart that when he grows up he could&amp;nbsp;most likely&amp;nbsp;rule the universe.&amp;nbsp; Five year olds need that.&amp;nbsp; And five year olds&amp;nbsp;need their mommies.&amp;nbsp; So why is he in school all day?&amp;nbsp; Not sure if that was a good decision on my part yet...(insert lots of sobby, wet tears here).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.&amp;nbsp; My dove breeding days have slowed.&amp;nbsp; I'm down to one singular dove.&amp;nbsp; After a series of events including the sad euthanasia of the "wacky-legged dove", I'm left with the original mommy dove of the flock.&amp;nbsp; She's a gorgeous ring necked girl who has become quite the talker.&amp;nbsp; I really do love her but fear that she's lonely.&amp;nbsp; It's that teeny, tiny nagging fear in the back of my mind that could very well lead to yet another round of dove breeding if I cave in and get the little mama a "friend".&amp;nbsp; Oh boy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.&amp;nbsp; Zeke is playing football and I'm not sure I like it.&amp;nbsp; I'm happy that he's enjoying a new team sport, but the mommy side of me wonders why they call it "flag football"?&amp;nbsp; The kids are tackle-crazed and forget to go for the flags about 90% of the time.&amp;nbsp; And to top it all off, they don't wear helmets.&amp;nbsp; :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's about it.&amp;nbsp; Or at least what I can recall in the haze of what was a super nice summer.&amp;nbsp; I enjoyed each day with my boy, with our friends, and with my hubby.&amp;nbsp; I'll always kinda' remember this summer as the "last one"...the one of innocence for Zeke...the one before he stepped into the cold, cruel, crazy&amp;nbsp;real world of the 9 to 5 grind.&amp;nbsp; There's no going back for him now.&amp;nbsp; But somehow, I don't think he really minds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6281281703220880781?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6281281703220880781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6281281703220880781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6281281703220880781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6281281703220880781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/09/and-never-look-back.html' title='And never look back.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-4167320769540781898</id><published>2010-07-20T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T13:26:10.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nancy + Albert = Love</title><content type='html'>I want a cat.&amp;nbsp; Ever since we catsat last month for Kitty Cat Princess Precious Nellie, I've decided that our home can handle a feline friend.&amp;nbsp; So, everyday at some point in the day, I hop on Petfinder.com.&amp;nbsp; Pathetic, I know.&amp;nbsp; I need to stop the Petfinder madness or get an intervention or something...but until then, I'm a Petfinder peeper.&amp;nbsp; I've seen tons of kitties on there that I've loved and lost...a Sphynx named Mrs. Bigglesworth was my biggest love...but now I'm loving this &lt;a href="http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/16107562"&gt;guy&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; He's very handsome, don't you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-4167320769540781898?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/4167320769540781898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=4167320769540781898' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4167320769540781898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4167320769540781898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/07/nancy-albert-love.html' title='Nancy + Albert = Love'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7461708430383405177</id><published>2010-07-20T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T12:48:41.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Really?  I'm really talking about Ripa?</title><content type='html'>Yeah, surprise, surprise...I'm going to give a thumbs up to Kelly Ripa for her latest project: "Splits for a Cause" with Electrolux.&amp;nbsp; I'll be honest and say I'm not ususally a K.R. "fan"...but this time I'll get in her corner and give her a hand...anyone who is supporting cancer research in such a public fashion COULD possibly make it to my oh-so-hard-to-get-on Friend List.&amp;nbsp; :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here are the deets:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Banana Splits For A Cause + Win $25 American Express Gift Card!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kelly Ripa has teamed up with Electrolux in their Banana Splits for A Cause campaign to support the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund this Summer. &lt;br /&gt;Here’ s the deal and how you can help: Right now you can visit Kelly-Confidential.com and create your own virtual banana split. For each day that you create a banana split, $1 (up to a $750K maximum commitment) goes to the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund through September 7, 2010. Once you create your yummy virtual banana split you are also entered to win one of the $50 daily prizes and the GRAND prize of a new stand-alone refrigerator and freezer from Electrolux.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here's the TOTALLY AWESOME BONUS PART of this coolness:&amp;nbsp; my little bloggity-blog here (aka Three's Company) is also giving away a $25 American Express gift card to one lucky reader on behalf of Electrolux. To enter to win just leave a comment letting me know that you’ve created your virtual banana split and what toppings are your favorite!!&amp;nbsp; Yeppers, it's that easy.&amp;nbsp; And who wouldn't like to (pretend) make, (pretend) eat, and (pretend) lick the dish of a virtual banana split???&amp;nbsp; All the fun and NO&amp;nbsp;calories!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RULES: This giveaway is open to US residents, void where prohibited by law. One entry. The deadline to enter is July 23, 2010 11:59 PM EST. One winner will be chosen at random. NO PURCHASE NECESSARY TO ENTER OR WIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Disclosure: We were given a $25 American Express gift card from Electrolux to write about/participate in this campaign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7461708430383405177?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7461708430383405177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7461708430383405177' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7461708430383405177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7461708430383405177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/07/really-im-really-talking-about-ripa.html' title='Really?  I&apos;m really talking about Ripa?'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6720643319722482800</id><published>2010-06-22T13:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T14:13:32.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summering it up.</title><content type='html'>True to form, I've got a lot to cram into this post as I haven't written in a while. It seems that the nice weather pulls me away from the computer screen and out into the vast world of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;funness&lt;/span&gt;. It's all good though, I'd rather be worn out to the bone from enjoying the warm weather than have carpel tunnel from updating my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bloggity&lt;/span&gt;-blog-blog with boring crap about the kid who picked his nose and wiped it on the shopping cart in front of me in line at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wegman's&lt;/span&gt; yesterday. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Dontcha&lt;/span&gt; think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to cram...stay focused and buckle up...this is gonna be mind-blowing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, since the end of May-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;, we've:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-ended preschool for Zeke.  He's officially bound for Kindergarten and I'm officially &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;devastated&lt;/span&gt; about it.&lt;br /&gt;-Zeke and I have noticed the return of Petey and Rusty our neighbor horses to the pastures down on our corner.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt; happy to be bringing them apples and carrots again!&lt;br /&gt;-the Slip &amp;amp; Slide from Aunt Susan is open for business on our hill in the backyard.&lt;br /&gt;-Zeke finished up t-ball and received his first ever trophy.  He brings it everywhere with him.&lt;br /&gt;-we've been to about a zillion birthday parties and Zeke bounced so hard at one he bloodied his nose.  Now that's what I call a party....&lt;br /&gt;-we've been babysitting Kitty Cat Nellie for about a month and have completely fallen in love with her.  I don't want to give her back even though she does bite me really hard.  It's her way of showing love, I think.&lt;br /&gt;-Zeke started and ended &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tae&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kwon&lt;/span&gt; Do simply because I don't want to be running him over to classes 3 and 4 times a week in the summer.  I'm not about to commit to that madness.&lt;br /&gt;-swim lessons for 2 weeks almost did me in...but Zeke can now swim in the deep end with confidence so it was all worth it.&lt;br /&gt;-we celebrated Father's Day by taking Pauly out to brunch.  We had a nice time and I hope he realized how much he means to us...&lt;br /&gt;-we had a quick visit from Pop Pop &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ebs&lt;/span&gt; and had the opportunity to see family that we don't often get to visit. &lt;br /&gt;-we &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;daytripped&lt;/span&gt; to the mountains again to visit Cookie and Pop Pop.  We swam in the lake (well, they did...I don't do natural bodies of water), followed up by a trip to their pool.  It was a fun, tiring day.&lt;br /&gt;-we've found some new hiking trails that seem pretty good and have been hiking and biking our old favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to top it all off, we just booked our summer vacation/my birthday celebration in the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Caribbean&lt;/span&gt;!!!  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY&lt;/span&gt;!  Can't wait to go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend is July 4&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; weekend so it's time to go scout for fireworks.  We're gonna' be "that family" that lights off our own fireworks in our yard.  Should be very trashy and awesome.  Pix to follow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6720643319722482800?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6720643319722482800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6720643319722482800' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6720643319722482800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6720643319722482800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/06/summering-it-up.html' title='Summering it up.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7736915351353907555</id><published>2010-05-31T17:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T17:46:16.267-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summing it up.</title><content type='html'>The warmer weather is here, so things are heating up as far as our "fun stuff" goes.  Here are just a few of the things we've done over the past 2 weeks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Hershey Park&lt;br /&gt;-a trip to the beach, complete with miniature golf and amusement rides on the boardwalk&lt;br /&gt;-hikes in the arboretum&lt;br /&gt;-t-ball every Saturday morning&lt;br /&gt;-Grandparents Day at Zeke's school&lt;br /&gt;-Day Before Memorial Day trip to the mountains to visit Cookie and Pop Pop at the lake&lt;br /&gt;-Memorial Day trip to Uncle T's house to cook out, make cotton candy, and play in the pool&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;play dates&lt;/span&gt; in the park&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;play dates&lt;/span&gt; at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;moonbouncey&lt;/span&gt; places&lt;br /&gt;-end of school picnic in the park&lt;br /&gt;-Kindergarten Orientation at Zeke's new school&lt;br /&gt;-violin lessons&lt;br /&gt;-gymnastics classes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the pix for a visual buffet...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7736915351353907555?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7736915351353907555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7736915351353907555' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7736915351353907555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7736915351353907555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/05/summing-it-up.html' title='Summing it up.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-5580887755912077837</id><published>2010-05-24T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T08:57:46.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And then it was dark.</title><content type='html'>I turn off street lights. A lot. Not on purpose...it just happens. I've read up a bit on this phenomenon and there are crazy theories out there that say I'm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;extra specially&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;electromagnetically&lt;/span&gt; charged or that perhaps I'm an Indigo adult. Both of which are possible, I guess. I tend to just really like my Dad's theory though: he thinks I'm just such a highly spirited, extremely bright person that lights find the need to actually DIM around me when I come near. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Phffffft&lt;/span&gt;...if only.  But, it's true - street lights really have shut off many times when I have driven or walked under them. It has freaked me out in the past but lately I've been thinking that maybe what Pauly says is true: it's just a sign that I'm on the right path. His theory is murky, at best, and even with much prodding over the years, he won't really go much further into it. He just mumbles on about the "right path" stuff a lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, after watching the series finale of Lost the other night, the "right path" stuff may just be starting to &lt;em&gt;feel &lt;/em&gt;a bit better to me.  I know that sounds completely ridiculous.  I mean, how can a TV show really matter?  It's just...entertainment, right???  I've always thought so.  And I fully admit that along the Lost path, I became a semi-hater at times.  The show got wacky, sidetracked, and loopy in my opinion.  Then again, I was always watching it around 10:00 at night when my nerves were shot and my kid was probably still awake and playing his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;drumset&lt;/span&gt; much past his bedtime.  Way too much ANNOYING adding up there for me to really like anything.  But, in the end, the finale &lt;em&gt;spoke to me&lt;/em&gt;.  The fact that the Lost friends gathered in the end to travel together for one last eternal journey?  That moved me.  It jived with my system of beliefs.  Because, you see, for me, I can't just move around this world thinking that this is it.  That the lady who gives me my change at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wawa&lt;/span&gt; is nobody other than a change-giver.  I believe we experience each other for a reason.  If even for one minute of one day of our lives.  And in that minute, I want to be able to leave an impression on that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wawa&lt;/span&gt; lady.  I want to look at her and smile and say "thanks" and mean it.  I want her to think "what a nice girl" when I leave.  I want her to &lt;em&gt;feel&lt;/em&gt; something other than sick of her job after she has given me my 36 cents back at the end of our bread and milk transaction.  And I want to do that every single time I move in this life.  Every time.  Because every time is an opportunity.  An opportunity for me to fill up my circle - the circle of people that will wait for me at our final destination.  I want that circle to be full of faces that I remember.  Ones that I know I've smiled at before...just to try to let them know that they mattered.  That's the path I'm on.  And I guess that's why street lights go out.  Because I'm on the right path.  Thanks Pauly.  I think you may be right after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-5580887755912077837?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/5580887755912077837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=5580887755912077837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5580887755912077837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5580887755912077837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/05/and-then-it-was-dark.html' title='And then it was dark.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6841960228441471501</id><published>2010-05-18T17:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T17:06:23.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever noticed that when you walk to your car in a parking lot, more times than not, the owner of the car next to you will be getting into their car RIGHT NEXT TO YOURS???  Strange but true.  Check it out next time you go somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just my random thought of the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6841960228441471501?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6841960228441471501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6841960228441471501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6841960228441471501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6841960228441471501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/05/so.html' title='So?'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-5311347972381187145</id><published>2010-05-13T18:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T18:33:05.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I only have vowels.</title><content type='html'>A little friendly competition is good for the soul.  At least I thought it was.  Until, that is, Pauly and I started playing Scrabble together on our &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;iPhones&lt;/span&gt;.  You see, the battle commenced about a week ago when Pauly got his new iPhone.  I've been telling him &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;FOREVERRRR&lt;/span&gt; that he needed one, couldn't live another day without one, and was basically a knuckle-dragging caveman toting around the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cinderblock&lt;/span&gt; he referred to as his cell.  Ridiculous.  So, finally, he upgraded.  And now I've got him hooked on an app that allows us to play head to head Scrabble...day and night.  It's simply delicious.  I've triple-word-scored him, I've double-letter-valued him on a "Q" (holy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;moly&lt;/span&gt;, that's got to be worth 20 points right there...), and I've slam-dunked a game or two slapping down a few words that I never even knew existed.   All the while, the two of us are usually sitting right next to each other, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;iPhones&lt;/span&gt; in hand, fiercely fighting for the next Big Move...all without moving an inch.   If that's not modern day togetherness, I don't know what is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-5311347972381187145?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/5311347972381187145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=5311347972381187145' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5311347972381187145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5311347972381187145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-only-have-vowels.html' title='I only have vowels.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3077691230852193789</id><published>2010-04-29T18:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T19:05:01.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Outside lite.</title><content type='html'>So lately Pauly and I have really been working on getting healthier.  We've been watching our diets and exercising much more frequently.  It's been great - we've both lost around 8 or 9 pounds and have become more fit because of our efforts.  Besides all of the blah, blah, blah stuff about the weight loss junk that most people would normally say, I've found more things that have made me happy about my recent health &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt;.  First, most of our exercise has been taking place outdoors.  This..is..great.  I've never really considered myself "outdoorsy", but I'm totally NOT an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;indoorsy&lt;/span&gt; type either.  I'd say I'm a girl who loves to be outside, with her makeup on, hair looking nice, and wearing a pretty decent get-up.  I'm okay with getting a bit dirty, but I'll have nothing to do with getting super buggy, overly muddy, too sweaty, or, of course, killing/fishing/catching any type of animal.  But the types of outdoor activities we've been doing all fall nicely into my Rules &amp;amp; Regulations, so it's been a blast.  We've hiked, walked, rode and yes, wallowed through a few muddy trails.  We've found nice new places to exercise and revisited some old haunts that are now back on our list of top places to frequent.  All along, Zeke has been right by our side, covering every mile like a little trooper.  He hikes and rides right along with us.  It's actually pretty amazing the miles he has covered with his little legs.  But he too just loves it.  And along with an ever-so-slight loosening of my waistband, I'm feeling oh-so-much closer to my boys.  I love spending this time with them.  There's no sound of television in the background, no music, not much chattering.  It's just the three of us out there...on the trails...enjoying each others' silence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3077691230852193789?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3077691230852193789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3077691230852193789' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3077691230852193789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3077691230852193789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/04/outside-lite.html' title='Outside lite.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-5131383133716203154</id><published>2010-04-27T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T10:52:21.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Schools and shindings.</title><content type='html'>The past few weeks have been madness for me. Since my current title in life is "Parental Technician", I've engrossed myself in all things Zeke. In doing this, I have been swallowed up by tons of, what I consider, HUGE decisions concerning his life. Of course I check in with Pauly here and there, since most of these decisions require financial backing and well, if I must disclose all truths, I guess he really is the Treasurer of this little Kane Company I'm running here. So, ideas get run by him, funding is secured, and I (in reality being the CEO &amp;amp; President of the corp.), funnel the money into what &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;avenues&lt;/span&gt; I see fit. The biggest choice that had to be made recently was regarding Zeke's schooling. We finally decided where he fit in best and yesterday we received word that he was accepted. Whew...big weight off my shoulders. I now know where my kiddo will be next year and am thrilled about the prospects of him being able to settle into a great school for the foreseeable future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other all-encompassing item on my list was Zeke's 5&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday celebration. Most years it's pretty easy-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;peasy&lt;/span&gt; stuff: call a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;moon bounce&lt;/span&gt; place, secure the date, get a cake and some pizzas and all kids involved are thrilled. But, alas, I'm raising a big-thinker here. Zeke wasn't content to have the typical bounce-o-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;rama&lt;/span&gt; gig this year. He wanted animals, live animals, and he wanted them in his own house, for him to pet and cuddle and feed. Oh. Live animals? My mind clicked into full gear and I searched for petting zoos. Once I started jotting down all of the details, I realized the scale of his request. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ummmm&lt;/span&gt;, what if it rained? I was completely fine with a yard full of farm animals (in fact, I was like a kid in a candy shop...), but the petting zoo owner told me that if it rained she could simply move it inside if I had a big enough room. Wait. What??? Like, inside my HOUSE? I'm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;uber&lt;/span&gt;-cool with having my dogs, my birds, my frogs, hamsters, fish, etc. hanging out in our digs. I kinda' draw the line at farm animals though. Even I...the lover of all things feathered, furry, and fishy...have my limits. This is my house we're talking about here, folks. &lt;em&gt;Don't mess with a woman's abode.&lt;/em&gt; So, I had to arrange this whole soiree and pray for good weather. And pray. And pray. The day of Zeke's party &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;arrived&lt;/span&gt; to a mixed bag of weather. It was to be sunny in the early part of the day, but rainy in the latter part. We were having the party at 2:00. Is 2:00 early or late??? I wasn't sure. But, to my distinct pleasure, the sun was out, the yard was gorgeous, and the animals were aplenty. Zeke was glowing with delight at all of the animals hanging out in our own backyard. We had tons of red and white balloons and tablecloths, hay bales scattered around, and cowboy and cowgirl hats for the kiddos. All of the kids got to feed and pet the farm animals and they each got turns taking a pony ride around our yard. It was so cool! We battled a big number five pinata and won - tons of candy rained down on the crowd - and followed it up by distributing goody bags that were actually red &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;bandannas&lt;/span&gt; stuffed with all kinds of treats for the guests. By the end of the day we were exhausted and partied out - and just as we got all of our tables and chairs into the house the rain started to come down. And I was just fine with that. I snuggled my five-year -old up in my bed and we watched the video of his party that Pauly had shot. It was a great way to end the party day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday Zeke. You're the light of my life, kiddo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-5131383133716203154?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/5131383133716203154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=5131383133716203154' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5131383133716203154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5131383133716203154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/04/schools-and-shindings.html' title='Schools and shindings.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-698063761393727398</id><published>2010-04-12T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T08:36:36.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't think God minds if I do..</title><content type='html'>It's quiet here.  Well, except for the chirping and cooing of the ten thousand birds I've accumulated over the past 3 months.  But, aside from the bird noises, it's quiet.  And it's been quiet for a while.  Zeke went to test out his new school.  He's there for FOUR WHOLE HOURS.  That's a long time in my world.  Usually I drop him off at 12:30, get home by 1, then leave to go back and get him by about 2:30.  So, by the time I'm done catching my breath, it's time to get back in the car, basically.  But today is different.  Today I'm clock-watching.  I'm nervous and jittery.  And I'm even dreadfully low on caffeine.  The jitters are of the natural sort.  I just want my baby to be...okay.  He was brave when I left him.  He wiped his tears and joined the other boys.  He actually looked like he was on the brink of &lt;em&gt;having fun&lt;/em&gt;.   I, on the other hand, walked out of there thinking that every step I took away from those school doors was a major step &lt;em&gt;away&lt;/em&gt; from my little boy.  A step further from being able to help him if he needed it, a step further from reaching out and hugging him if he felt lonely or scared, and a step further away from completely kicking &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; ass if they hurt a hair on his head.  But that's just the "Philly Side" of me coming out (Mare, you know what I mean...).  I just feel very far, far away from Zeke right now.  But I also feel like maybe he's in a good place.  A place filled with love and learning and mostly, God.  And that's just how I want my kid to grow up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not above kicking ass if need be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-698063761393727398?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/698063761393727398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=698063761393727398' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/698063761393727398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/698063761393727398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-dont-think-god-minds-if-i-do.html' title='I don&apos;t think God minds if I do..'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6431996444255675412</id><published>2010-04-07T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T10:51:16.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Absence makes you love me more.  I think.</title><content type='html'>I'm not EVEN going to go into making excuses for why I'm so behind on posting. I've been busy. Just busy. I'll post pictures to keep my crazy, enormous &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;fan base&lt;/span&gt; up-to-date on our lives over here at 3's Co. But for now, here's a quick synopsis of what's been &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;happenin&lt;/span&gt;':&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zeke and I have listened to and met Matthew Ryan on the 10 Show, Pauly and I had a great date night at the Tin Angel in Philly when Matthew Ryan played a show there the same night, my family and I celebrated my Mom's birthday at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bucca&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;di&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Beppo&lt;/span&gt; with a ginormous pasta dinner (yum!), Zeke's doves have procreated YET AGAIN making our total count coming in at a whopping 6 doves, Zeke still enjoys his hot tubby at night with bubbles and pretends he's Bubble Boy (see picture), all three of us enjoyed a quick trip to the gorgeous &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Longwood&lt;/span&gt; Gardens, Zeke and I joined Mom Mom Mare at the College for a show with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Taiko&lt;/span&gt; drummers and dancers from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tamagawa&lt;/span&gt; University in Japan, we're in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bigtime&lt;/span&gt; planning mode for Zeke's 5&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday party which has taken on the theme of Backyard Barn - Welcome to the Kane Zoo (complete with travelling petting zoo and pony rides), Zeke went to the dentist for his semi-annual checkup and his big boy teeth are visible via x-ray but definitely not ready to come in yet (guess he'll be looking like a hockey player for another year or so), I'm on a mission to lose a few lbs. so by default that means Pauly is too, we haven't yet decided on a summer vacation - I'm torn between going somewhere amazingly exotic/educational or just jumping on the ridiculous Disney cruise and schlepping around in flip-flops and sunglasses with Mickey Mouse for a week (Zeke's pick, of course), we've searched high and low and contemplated schools for Zeke for Fall '10 and think we've found the perfect place for him, Zeke took a week of swim lessons and all he got out of it was a disgusting bacterial infection on his arm requiring oral antibiotics (I was one angry momma), and finally I've continued to clean up after all these pets I've somehow acquired over the past few months.  Lucky I'm not opposed to poop patrol or this house would drown in it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, it's been eventful.  And that's just a sampling of the happenings.  Check the pix for now and I'll try to post more often.  But don't hold me to it - the warm Spring air keeps me away from the keyboard now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6431996444255675412?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6431996444255675412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6431996444255675412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6431996444255675412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6431996444255675412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/04/absence-makes-you-love-me-more-i-think.html' title='Absence makes you love me more.  I think.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-5568730610705902584</id><published>2010-03-10T17:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T18:08:53.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>yeah man.</title><content type='html'>Cool things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Zeke and I are going to be audience members at the 10! Show tomorrow morning.  We're specifically going because &lt;a href="http://www.matthewryanonline.com/"&gt;Matthew Ryan&lt;/a&gt; is the featured musical guest, and well, we both &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;loooove&lt;/span&gt; his music. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  The baby doves are about 50 - 65% the size of the mommy and daddy doves now.  I feel an overwhelming sense of success knowing that I (along with the parents) brought new life into the world from egg to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hatchling&lt;/span&gt; to "kid" as Zeke calls them now.  Very cool and very inspiring to see how nature works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  The auction project for school is complete and although it's certainly no masterpiece, it has 12 little faces shining out from it that are precious and beautiful.  When I finally looked at the finished piece I realized that it's not really how an item "turns out"...it's how much meaning the process held.  Although I was semi-stressed getting this done, I did it out of love for Zeke's class and his school.  They've turned my baby boy into quite a confident, smart, and caring kid.  And for that I'll volunteer my time &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;anyday&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  We saw the sun this week and it felt like heaven.  I can sense that spring is on it's way and with that comes tons of time outside and fun in the parks, yards, beaches, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Zeke wore his first pair of shorts today.  There's no going back, baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncool:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I bought a $50 bottle of stuff from the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Clinique&lt;/span&gt; counter and all it's doing is making my face breakout.  How VERY uncool.  Obviously, for $50, it really wasn't supposed to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  My office space in my house is a total wreck.  Can't...function...in...disorder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I'm on a diet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I'm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;treadmilling&lt;/span&gt; like a freak and it's only making my joints ache worse.  Way, way, way uncool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's it.  Cool/uncool list is updated.  More to come after tomorrow's insanely awesome day of Matthew Ryan-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;esque&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ness&lt;/span&gt;.  LOVING IT.  If you've got a brain in your head you'll go check out his music.  It's (as my older brother used to say when he was about 14 and I now say just because I like it...) &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;deeeeeskins&lt;/span&gt;.  Awesome music from an awesome songwriter.  And then go tell a friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-5568730610705902584?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/5568730610705902584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=5568730610705902584' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5568730610705902584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5568730610705902584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/03/yeah-man.html' title='yeah man.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3910558137194236061</id><published>2010-03-04T13:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T13:54:56.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's your girl???</title><content type='html'>I used to have music playing in the background of my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bloggity&lt;/span&gt;-blog-blog. When I really thought about it, I realized that maybe, although I think my taste in music absolutely &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ROWCKS&lt;/span&gt;, some people may not enjoy having my tunes pumping out through their speakers as they peruse my postings. So, I stopped the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tunage&lt;/span&gt;. But to be honest, I miss hearing all of my faves when I travel down Memory Lane looking at all the pix I've posted on here. I used to love hearing my all time fave - &lt;a href="http://www.matthewryanonline.com/"&gt;Matthew Ryan &lt;/a&gt;- as the soundtrack to my blog. Alas, I must take into consideration that some of you poor folk may be cubicle monkeys - trapped in a bone-colored four by four cell all day at work - and your bossy-poo may not appreciate hearing Matthew Ryan or any of my other chosen artists screaming out of your laptops at your cube neighbors. So, it's quiet here at Three's Company for now. And Zeke has noticed. When he pops in to check out my blog, he always asks "where's Matthew Ryan, mom?" I just tell him that MR is on "quiet time" for a while. That seems to satisfy his 4.5 year-old curiosity. So, you can see, that Zeke too has an appreciation the Ryan-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;esque&lt;/span&gt; vibe that this piece of technology has offered in the past. So much so, that he has consistently asked me to bring him to a concert. Now, I can't do that, but I've scored something pretty darn close for my little buddy. I've gotten us two tickets to the live taping of the 10! Show in Philly for next Thursday. The super-awesome part about these &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tix&lt;/span&gt; is the fact that Matthew Ryan will be featured live on the show! Zeke is stoked. He's telling everyone he's going to see Matthew Ryan in concert. Funny how he has skewed the picture to fit his own little fantasy world. But hey, I'm cool with that. As long as he remembers his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;uber&lt;/span&gt;-cool &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mommio&lt;/span&gt; who landed the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tix&lt;/span&gt; when he looks back fondly on this gig!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3910558137194236061?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3910558137194236061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3910558137194236061' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3910558137194236061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3910558137194236061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/03/whos-your-girl.html' title='Who&apos;s your girl???'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-9069944258906109797</id><published>2010-02-23T10:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T14:58:05.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I didn't even know I was expecting.</title><content type='html'>Life has sprung anew in our household. The doves have successfully hatched their eggs! The whole process of these tiny little dove eggs has been insane. The first clutch of eggs didn't survive. My nephew surmises that the temperature of the cage didn't stay warm enough to allow the developing embryo to live. It was a sad day when Zeke and I realized that the mommy and daddy dove had given up on the first two eggs. They left the nest they had so carefully guarded for 18 days. Just left it high and dry. Zeke and I left the 2 eggs in the nest for about 5 more days, unprotected, but nothing happened. That's when I knew the mission would be fruitless. We removed the eggs and planned on a burial, but of course we had to know first if the eggs contained anything other than, well, yolk. So, the dissection began. I let Zeke get some tweezers and break into the egg. Sadly, we saw a tiny little dead dove. Same with the second one. We said a little prayer, Zeke told God he could have the baby doves as His pet, and we buried them (in the toilet since it's about -90 in the region right now...). The good news is that about 2 weeks later we found a new clutch of eggs in the nest (actually it's the doves' &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;foodbowl&lt;/span&gt;, but, oh well...). We took good care of the eggs this time and kept them warm with a tiny space heater. Zeke watched and waited and about 17 days later.....TWO BABIES APPEARED!!! The babies are about 12 days old now and they're precious. The mommy and daddy dove take very good care of them, providing them with all the nourishment they need, and within about 2 to 3 weeks the babies will be out and about in the cage on their own. Which leads me to the ultimate question: what do I do with all of these doves???? And what do I do if little Miss Mommy Dove decides to keep on producing little chicks????????? &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ummmmm&lt;/span&gt;, I'm all about first-hand biology experiments and everything, but I can foresee this deal becoming an overpopulation situation. Anyone want some doves? They're cute and they're free. As long as Zeke and I get visitation, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, other than populating our region with doves, Zeke has also been going to a science class on Tuesdays. He loves it and looks forward to it each week. It has mostly been about animals, so I think that could be the major attraction for him. I'll have him in veterinarian school before Pauly can sink his finance/accounting fingers into him. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for now.  I'm not feeling overly wordy, so I'll post a photo diary of the baby doves over to the side.  Have fun browsing our little babies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-9069944258906109797?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/9069944258906109797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=9069944258906109797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/9069944258906109797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/9069944258906109797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-didnt-even-know-i-was-expecting.html' title='I didn&apos;t even know I was expecting.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-4185755011896627814</id><published>2010-02-17T13:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T13:26:51.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Subzero.</title><content type='html'>Going in and out of my driveway is currently like competing in an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Olympic&lt;/span&gt; sport.  It's a luge track, I tell you, long, narrow, and extremely icy.  Add to that, the fact that I'm driving an SUV in which I can barely see over the steering wheel, and I've got issues.  Issues that occur over and over and over and over multiple times a day as I run here, there, and everywhere just doing my life.  Because you see, "doing my life" means that I'm jumping in and out of my car and driving up and down the luge track that was once my driveway, about 34 times a day.  It's irritating.   The snow that was, for a few glorious days, fun and pretty, is now icy, annoying, dirty, and ugly.  I'm over it and I'm ready to move on to spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zeke has enjoyed the snow though.  I guess all this whiteness is a dream come true for a 4 year old.  Snow days, sledding, hot cocoa and pizza parties with friends...what's not to love?  Today I put some food coloring in a squirt bottle and let him "paint" the snow.  He had tons of fun.  After he emptied the squirt bottle and I told him it was time to come in (mostly because I was shivering and freezing and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; extremely ready for a hot cup of tea),  he stomped in angrily and told me he wanted to keep playing.  I told him that was enough outside time for today and we'd do more tomorrow.  As I shuffled him upstairs for some snuggle/&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; time, I asked him to carry up a few books that needed to go into my bedroom.  My hands were already full of folded laundry, so I needed an extra hand getting the books up.  Well, I guess he was irritated and tired and cold and whatever...but he blurted out on his way up:  "WHY ARE YOU SO HELPLESS?????"     &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ummmmmmmmmm&lt;/span&gt;......what?  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why am I so helpless?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  Like, when was the last time I asked you for &lt;em&gt;EVERY SINGLE TINY THING I NEEDED TO LIVE????&lt;/em&gt;  What the heck is with this kid?   Amazing how quickly he forgets where his next meal is cooked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's it for now from here.  Dealing with the snow, hating the frigid air, but enjoying time with my baby and my hubs.  Come on spring...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-4185755011896627814?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/4185755011896627814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=4185755011896627814' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4185755011896627814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4185755011896627814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/02/subzero.html' title='Subzero.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1356779174110662811</id><published>2010-02-08T18:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T18:43:10.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'll take the gray, hooded one.</title><content type='html'>0nce again, it's time to play catch up. shocking that i haven't posted in over a week.  i'm in a funk with posting life news at the moment, i guess.  when i lost my friend to cancer a month ago, things got strange. i started thinking that my little posts about going to the park or to a museum were RIDICULOUS compared to the fact that my friend is now no longer even walking the earth.  but slowly (like snail's pace-slowly), i'm figuring out that it most certainly &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the news about the park outings, the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;moonbounces&lt;/span&gt;, and the museum trips that are worth posting.  these are the days, my days, with my kiddo.  and they need to be logged, jotted down, photographed, remembered.  this is a life i'm working on here...a little person i'm growing...and he deserves to be blogged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, based on all of that supreme knowledge, here's what we've been up to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-every tuesday morning, we go to science camp.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah&lt;/span&gt;.  love it.  last week was baby animals week.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;helllllo&lt;/span&gt;.....what more could a kid want than to start his day with an hour-long class about baby ANIMALS.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sweeet&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-the carpenters and painters are finally finished in our den.  it looks really awesome.  now &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; slammed &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pauly&lt;/span&gt; with the hard facts:  i can't live without new furniture in the room.  the old stuff doesn't match and won't work.  sorry. so, to make a long story short, the new furniture is supposed to be delivered on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wednesday&lt;/span&gt;.  woman wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-but, another g.d. snowstorm is supposed to hit smack dab in the middle of my furniture festivities.  the snow is supposed to come in hard &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tuesday&lt;/span&gt; night through &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wednesday&lt;/span&gt; - directly in the middle of my scheduled  delivery.  woman may lose.  temporarily.  still a big &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ew&lt;/span&gt; for woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-on a sad note, my little chi-chi &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;timmy&lt;/span&gt; is coughing more and more each day.  his heart is beating hard in his chest and i feel like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; watching him slip away each day.  he has congestive heart failure and is doing one day at a time at the moment.  i love my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;timmy&lt;/span&gt;.  he was the perfect addition to our little family 11 years ago when it was just &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pauly&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;otto&lt;/span&gt; (our first chi-chi) and me.   &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;timmy&lt;/span&gt; is a smiley little creature with the most beautiful colors &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; ever seen on a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;doggie&lt;/span&gt;.  the caramel colors around his face are delicious.  the browns on his back are gorgeous enough to make me want to go brunette.  and the white fur around his neck is so soft that i call it his "bunny fur".  i can't imagine saying goodbye to my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tim&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tim&lt;/span&gt;.  he's my sweet, sweet baby boy.   i really pray that i can face whatever is in store for me with my pup.  i pray and pray and pray.  because i love my pups so darn much....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ugh.  so that's it.  a bunch of incomplete sentences, terrible grammar, and no capitalization.  but that's about all i can muster in the middle of f&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ebruary&lt;/span&gt; with snow all around and 2 feet more of it on the way.  spring isn't even a blip on the radar and i find myself only wanting to wear heavy, hooded sweatshirts so i can pull the hood up tight over my head.  maybe &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; trying to stay warm in all of this white mess....or maybe &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; trying to drown out the sound of reality on the horizon.  either way, i just want to go on wearing my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hoodies&lt;/span&gt; for now.  :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1356779174110662811?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1356779174110662811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1356779174110662811' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1356779174110662811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1356779174110662811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/02/ill-take-gray-hooded-one.html' title='i&apos;ll take the gray, hooded one.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3690698592713772667</id><published>2010-01-25T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T14:25:04.227-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday (to me).</title><content type='html'>This week is the week of The Great Hatch. Now, for those of you who aren't following my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waaaaaaaaay&lt;/span&gt; exciting life on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;, let me fill you in (60 Cent!). About a month ago, Zeke convinced me to buy him a pair of doves. We had stopped in a pet store to browse (what a retarded idea, knowing my propensity to bring home all things cute...), and that's when we saw the doves. Zeke asked and I obliged. Pauly had no idea they were here until he heard the coo-coo-cooing and realized something was askew. Now, Pauly will ALWAYS say no when asked if we can adopt a new pet.  I guess it's the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;gaybird&lt;/span&gt; "responsible" side of him surfacing.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Buuuuuttt&lt;/span&gt;, when faced with the notion of actually &lt;em&gt;kicking out&lt;/em&gt; an animal that has already been brought home?  No &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waaaay&lt;/span&gt; will he do that.  That's when the tough facade cracks.  He, like me, sees the sweet soul of each little creature and simply can't abandon them.  I guess that's why I married him in the first place.  If he hunted or smoked, I never would have EVEN given him a second look.  But anyway, the doves are now here and are part of our brood.  One thing I hadn't bargained for when I brought home these sweeties is the fact that they're a &lt;em&gt;breeding pair&lt;/em&gt;.  Yep, they're ready to populate all 4 bedrooms of my house and possibly even the man-cave with little dove babies given enough time.  As I type, Diane (the female) is sitting on her first pair of eggs, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;anxiously&lt;/span&gt; awaiting their hatch.  So, I've dubbed this the week of The Great Hatch.  It'll be our first experience with hatching.  Our first experience watching new animal life come into the world.  And our first experience watching it from the comfort of our own home.  I have to say...I'm like a kid at Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3690698592713772667?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3690698592713772667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3690698592713772667' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3690698592713772667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3690698592713772667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday (to me).'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-5527355085491484563</id><published>2010-01-20T18:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T18:36:07.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Contractors and co-pays.</title><content type='html'>In the spirit of my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Carpe&lt;/span&gt; Diem attitude lately, I've decided it's time to spend a bit of money.   If we're doing the whole "full disclosure" thing-a-ma-jig, I guess I should say I'm spending more than a "bit" at the moment.  But, it's worth it.  I'm renovating an entire room on our first floor and it's beginning to take shape into exactly what I imagined.  Here's the deal though:  one of the carpenters working for us just had a baby.  Awesome, right?  Yeah.  But here's the rough part:  he was recently laid off from his full time job - and this was after buying a new home to start his nice new family life.  I've been so rocked by the total sadness of this guy's situation that it hurts.  He's a super-nice guy, hardworking, quiet...a simple, quiet man who is now searching high and low for work because he's one of the many catastrophes that's happening as a result of the economy taking a nosedive.  This is the first &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;real &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;example I've experienced of the crappy economy.  I've read about people losing their houses, their cars, their businesses in the newspapers.  But to hear that this guy has a 2 week old baby and no health insurance???  I'm stunned to silence.  And that just doesn't usually happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm lucky to have what I have and be where I am.  I'm lucky for so many reasons and maybe for even meeting my carpenter.  He has made me realize that small things - things like a $15 co-pay - are things for which to be thankful.   Because his co-pays may take him years to payback.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-5527355085491484563?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/5527355085491484563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=5527355085491484563' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5527355085491484563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5527355085491484563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/01/contractors-and-co-pays.html' title='Contractors and co-pays.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7947440445210103747</id><published>2010-01-15T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T18:59:52.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grab the ball and run</title><content type='html'>I've noticed something very strange about life:  it keeps on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;truckin&lt;/span&gt;'. And, whether you're in it or you're out...it keeps on moving.  The sun rises the next day, everyone wakes up, has their caffeine hit, and proceeds with their day.  This has shocked me into a morbid reality lately.  The reality that I'm kinda' disposable.  I mean, not in a depressing/I-want-to-slit-my-wrists kind of way, but in a way that shakes the cobwebs out of my mind and makes me realize that life must be lived...and NOW.   I can't simply auto-pilot through my day, counting down the hours until it's time to crawl back into bed.  It won't cut it.  I need to grasp it.  Observe it.  Make it a teachable moment for my kid and even for myself.  I need to LIVE the hours of my life.  So even if I'm just trekking to the park or to Chuck E. (crappy) Cheese, I'm gonna' grasp it.  For the sake of the friends who aren't here and wish they were - even for just one more sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~In Memory of Shari~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7947440445210103747?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7947440445210103747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7947440445210103747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7947440445210103747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7947440445210103747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/01/grab-ball-and-run.html' title='Grab the ball and run'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-5547774679770099699</id><published>2010-01-11T18:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T20:29:27.674-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Silenced too soon.</title><content type='html'>I'm troubled tonight in a way that goes beyond words on a stupid blog. The deal is: a friend of mine died. There it is. Pretty blunt and out there, huh? Well, that's how I feel about it. She and I were quite close at one time...but our friendship was interrupted by cancer. And yeah, that's cancer with a small "c" because it just doesn't ever deserve a capital one. Once my friend started battling the disgusting disease, our time for long phone chats, dinners at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bucca&lt;/span&gt;, and spur of the moment pizza dinners when the hubbies were working late just seemed to vanish.  Suddenly her time became filled with simply surviving.  I, along with her amazing core group of friends, supported her and prayed for her, but it seemingly wasn't enough.  This amazing, vibrant, fun, vivacious, creative, loving friend/mother/wife is just gone.  And tomorrow we bury her and the hope for her cure.  I can't stand the thought of tomorrow and all that it stands for.  Because tomorrow means that it's for real:  my friend is no longer here to talk to, email, call, read her blog, or simply laugh with.  And it's the laughter that I'll really miss.  That laughter was contagious and big and loud and good.  The kind I think I'll have to wait for a lifetime to hear again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-5547774679770099699?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/5547774679770099699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=5547774679770099699' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5547774679770099699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5547774679770099699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/01/silenced-too-soon.html' title='Silenced too soon.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6584346286432564796</id><published>2010-01-11T18:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T18:29:47.952-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jam of the Day | Matthew Ryan - The Wilderness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.speakersincode.com/2010/01/jam-of-day-matthew-ryan-wilderness.html"&gt;Jam of the Day  Matthew Ryan - The Wilderness&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted using &lt;a href="http://sharethis.com/"&gt;ShareThis&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6584346286432564796?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6584346286432564796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6584346286432564796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6584346286432564796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6584346286432564796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/01/jam-of-day-matthew-ryan-wilderness.html' title='Jam of the Day | Matthew Ryan - The Wilderness'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7186571444684272151</id><published>2010-01-03T16:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T07:13:02.838-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It took a decade to create this list.</title><content type='html'>Haven't posted in a while. I think my blog is mad at me. Sorry, sorry, it's been too insane to stop and download photos or even get a thought down in here. But here's the scoop: tomorrow school starts again for Zeke and that means it's the official end of the holidays. I'm so sad about that. I'm not ready to move into a new year, let alone a new decade. I'm procrastinating, dragging my feet, and feeling sappy about things that are moving too fast. Before I know it, June will be here and my baby will be on summer break. I hate how time is flying by. Grab it, hold onto it...it's all so fleeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my friend Missy over at &lt;a href="http://www.thefoxandthecrow.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Fox and the Crow&lt;/a&gt; summed up her decade with a pretty mind twisting list. I'm stealing it and repeating here on my blog with my own decade memories, hoping that she doesn't mind the thievery:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Day:&lt;/strong&gt; the day I gave birth to Zeke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst Day:&lt;/strong&gt; I have to agree with Missy, 9/11/01&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Decision:&lt;/strong&gt; to adopt our third dog, Simon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst Decision:&lt;/strong&gt; to allow Nixon (a family dog) to be adopted out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Realization&lt;/strong&gt;: that I WAS meant to be a mom, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;after all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst Realization:&lt;/strong&gt; that I probably wouldn't be able to fulfill all of my career goals &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Biggest Hope&lt;/strong&gt;: that I make the best decisions regarding Zeke's education&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Biggest Fear:&lt;/strong&gt; that the new Lupus drug, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Benlysta&lt;/span&gt;, won't pass FDA approval and my Lupus will get worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Year:&lt;/strong&gt; not sure, but '09 has been pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst Year:&lt;/strong&gt; 2001. 9/11 made me realize how vulnerable we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;People I can't live without:&lt;/strong&gt; Paul &amp;amp; Zeke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;People I can live without:&lt;/strong&gt; dead weights in my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Fashion Find:&lt;/strong&gt; long, shawl collared sweater&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst Fashion Find:&lt;/strong&gt; long, shawl collared sweater (love 'em, but they make me look even shorter)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fashion Obsession:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;, purses, of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fashion Hate:&lt;/strong&gt; yeah, I agree with Missy, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;UGGS&lt;/span&gt;. And I'm not ashamed to say that I wore a pair for 10 minutes back in '08. What was I thinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Food/Drink Find:&lt;/strong&gt; Ty-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Phoo&lt;/span&gt; tea from England&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst Food/Drink Find:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Hawaiian&lt;/span&gt; Pizza - McMahon made me try it and I tasted bacon for hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Food/Drink Love:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tacconelli's&lt;/span&gt; pizza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Food/Drink Hate:&lt;/strong&gt; any food with meat and any drink with milk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TV Love:&lt;/strong&gt; Jockeys, Lost, Curb Your Enthusiasm, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bridezillas&lt;/span&gt;, Jersey Shore, Big Brother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TV Hate:&lt;/strong&gt; Two and a Half Men (I hate most of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sheens&lt;/span&gt;. Emilio seems okay based on the fact that he changed his last name, seemingly disassociating himself from the other Sheen bozos).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Internet Love:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;petfinder&lt;/span&gt;.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Internet Hate:&lt;/strong&gt; Twitter (don't waste your time telling me that you're about to take out the recycles. I'm not about to care.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Development:&lt;/strong&gt; Zeke learning the nuances of all of the Nancy/Paul jokes and when to interject the appropriate punch lines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst Development:&lt;/strong&gt; Timmy's (my 2&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; chihuahua) heart condition&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Investment:&lt;/strong&gt; our current home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst Investment:&lt;/strong&gt; BOTH of the old &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Volvos&lt;/span&gt; we purchased thinking we'd drive them for 50 years. No such luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Travel: &lt;/strong&gt;England&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst Travel:&lt;/strong&gt; Philadelphia (it's not really "travel" but it takes us about 30 minutes to get there and it seems to irritate me EVERY time.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Personal Empowerment:&lt;/strong&gt; being on the verge of 40&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Personal Struggle:&lt;/strong&gt; career deprivation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Accomplishment:&lt;/strong&gt; Zeke and my marriage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Worst Failure:&lt;/strong&gt; I've lost faith in the Catholic church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How I Started This Decade:&lt;/strong&gt; unsure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How I'm Ending This Decade:&lt;/strong&gt; confident in myself as a woman, loved by my family, in love with my boys, hopeful for a healthier future, determined to find career fulfillment, kinder to the animal world, and on a mission to educate people about the importance of respecting animals even if you don't choose to love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 2010 everyone. May it be peaceful and filled with love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7186571444684272151?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7186571444684272151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7186571444684272151' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7186571444684272151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7186571444684272151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2010/01/havent-posted-in-while.html' title='It took a decade to create this list.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-2858858103648143239</id><published>2009-12-20T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T19:19:12.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Upside</title><content type='html'>Things I liked this weekend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  watching the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;weatherpeople&lt;/span&gt; get all &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;NUTTO&lt;/span&gt; about the impending snow storm&lt;br /&gt;2.  getting all psyched up for the storm&lt;br /&gt;3.  watching all the snow fall during the storm&lt;br /&gt;4.  going outside and playing in the snow for just a little while (it was COLD out there)&lt;br /&gt;5.  the hot cocoa and snuggling under the cozy blankets after we came in&lt;br /&gt;6.  the fact that Timmy seemed to REALLY, REALLY enjoy the tiny pathway that Pauly shoveled out front.  Timmy ran like the wind - it was a good sight to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I disliked this weekend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  dealing with gross, hungover guys who were out to make tons of cash off of people needing their driveways plowed.   Thankfully, one of our neighbors came by with a plow attached to his Jeep and plowed us out.  After calling to cancel the gross guy's plow, he told me I had to pay a $30 surcharge for cancelling.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ummmmmm&lt;/span&gt;, yeah, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, send me the bill and hold your breath waiting for me to pay, Mr. Creepy Gross Guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  the fact that Timmy's vet had to add another medication to his regimen.  Timmy's heart problem is progressing and there's nothing much I can do about it other than medicate him and love him up.  My little, sweet Timmy.  I can't face the fact that he's got a sick ticker.  :( &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.   dealing with a 3-day-old migraine.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, Mr. Migraine...you've made your point.  You can go now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's not too bad.  The pros &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waaaay&lt;/span&gt; outweigh the cons for the weekend.  Nice.  I guess the glass ended up half full.  Now on to Christmas week...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-2858858103648143239?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/2858858103648143239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=2858858103648143239' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2858858103648143239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2858858103648143239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/12/upside.html' title='Upside'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-9086283468801427544</id><published>2009-12-16T16:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T16:46:23.721-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Postworthy</title><content type='html'>It's been a bit since I last posted - the holiday madness has definitely set in.  Every night I think to myself  "I really want to go in there and post something fabulous"...then I get tangled up with a thousand other things.  But here are some things that have crossed my mind that are "post-worthy":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAULY.  Sorry I didn't post this back on the 10&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, but we were busy partying down with the family.  May your next year be filled with love, laughter, and a feeling a peace.  If we continue to follow our heads and hearts and stick to our "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;GWBD&lt;/span&gt;", then I know we will always end up &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; and together.  Happy, happy...and many, many, many, many more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, other than birthdays, my "normal" days are getting a bit odd lately.  Zeke questions everything.  Everything.  Nothing slips by.  Like, on mornings when I just want to drive with the radio on and sip my tea quietly, I'll hear a small voice from the back asking me "what is that orange box on all the trees"?  So I look.  I DO see the orange boxes on the all of the trees as we pass them, but to be honest, I've never given them a second thought.  I just figured, they were, well, just there.  Maybe it's a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PECO&lt;/span&gt; thing?  Maybe it's a water company thing?  Or maybe it's some cool new environmental &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dealio&lt;/span&gt; that is monitoring the health of any tree that is past a certain age.  All I know is that I DON'T KNOW.  And in the morning, a cold morning at that, I just DON'T WANT TO KNOW.  And I don't want to Google it or Bing it or whatever the heck I could do to figure it out and enlighten my kid.  I just want to sip my tea and listen to the radio.  I don't want to discover new and important stuff.  Not at 8 in the morning.  Talk to me after lunch.  I'm a better mommy after noontime and a half day's worth of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;caffeine&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I don't like my Christmas card this year.  I put a lot of time into finding a good one, then settled on a crappy one.  So, when you get it from me, just know this:  it does not in any way represent my taste, lifestyle or mood.  I hate the color red, don't particularly like polka-dots, and I'm not really into the "retro-y" style of goods that are out and about these days.  My Christmas card is all of the aforementioned and I think it's really ugly.  I apologize in advance for hurting your eyes - especially when you have to squint super-duper hard to read our signature line - it's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;retardedly&lt;/span&gt; tiny print.  What a total &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;WOM&lt;/span&gt;.  Waste of money, that is.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Should've&lt;/span&gt; e-carded...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Here's a big &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bloggy&lt;/span&gt; high five to my friend Rick who apparently reads my little site here on a regular basis.  I honestly thought I was typing into cyberspace - a big, black abyss - where nobody ever came around and clicked me.  It's nice to get clicked.  Clicks make me feel, well, needed.  Clicks make all this typing worthwhile.  Thanks for the clicks, Rick.  You rock.  But, you already knew that...  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for now - more later and tons of pix coming up.  Enjoy the mayhem of the holiday.  Or at least survive it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-9086283468801427544?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/9086283468801427544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=9086283468801427544' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/9086283468801427544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/9086283468801427544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/12/postworthy.html' title='Postworthy'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7551935870286788888</id><published>2009-12-08T11:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T11:25:36.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'>See a free movie - compliments of General Mills!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sooooooooooooooooo&lt;/span&gt;...I don't usually blog about this type of thing BUT...I just have to tell you about this little freebie deal that General Mills has sent my way.  Just for being a super-awesome blogger (if I do say so myself!) General Mills mailed me a package complete with 4 free tickets to the movies!  How do you like that?!?!?!!  You see, they're trying to hype their new promotion where you buy 2 specially marked packages of GM cereals (such as Trix - yum.  Um, heck yeah, they're &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; not just for kids!), you enter the codes that are stamped on the inside of the boxes at the website on the box, and voila!, you've got yourself a free movie!!!  It's a totally sweet deal, especially if you're like Zeke and you eat your cereal out of buckets instead of bowls!  Why waste those codes - don't throw them away - enter them today and get your free movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one more thing...if you are the first to comment on my posting here with your name and address, General Mills will happily supply me with one more 4 pack of movie tickets just for you!  GET COMMENTING!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7551935870286788888?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7551935870286788888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7551935870286788888' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7551935870286788888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7551935870286788888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/12/see-free-movie-compliments-of-general.html' title='See a free movie - compliments of General Mills!'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1719616038630340283</id><published>2009-12-06T19:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T19:28:18.275-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One bed, one bath.</title><content type='html'>I'm slightly obsessed with real estate.  When the Sunday paper arrives, I like to scour the real estate section just out of curiosity.  Whenever I see a "For Sale" sign pointed down a street I've always loved, I take a little detour to do a drive-by.  I'm constantly on realtor.com poking around...and really, I don't know why.  I love where we live.  I love our life and our yard and our &lt;em&gt;home&lt;/em&gt;.  Which brings me to today's real estate section of the newspaper.  Typically there's an article I read that describes in glorious detail the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ammmmmmmmaaaaaazing&lt;/span&gt; interior and exterior of some gorgeous digs in some scrumptious neighborhood that makes me giggle and wiggle in my chair as I read each and every word.  By the end of the article, I'm ready to go to the Home Depot and redesign at least 6 of the rooms in my own happy haven.  But today's article was oddly different.  It detailed a...gulp...tiny &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;rowhome&lt;/span&gt;.  I made it past the first paragraph (mostly because the picture attached to the article had the homeowner standing next to her precious chi-chi mix &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;doggie&lt;/span&gt; and I had to give it a chance...), and lo and behold, this story moved me.  &lt;em&gt;This &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;rowhome&lt;/span&gt; story moved me&lt;/em&gt;.  The house was tiny but the woman who owned it loved it.  She took care of it.  She made it special and unique - it reflected her and her own lovely quirks.  The tiny lawn out front was meticulous with pretty annuals and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;perennials&lt;/span&gt;.  The quaint little backyard was a cozy little nook for her and her pooch to enjoy.  And that's what struck me.  This woman, this amazing, hardworking and humble woman truly enjoyed her tiny little piece of the earth.  It was hers.  It may have been diminutive but to her it was everything.   It was where she laid her head happily at night and knew she was safe and warm.  It was where she hung her family pictures and set her pretty &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hummels&lt;/span&gt;.  It was the sacred little home she shared with her rescued tiny mutt.  And that was all she needed to be happy.  Good for her.  And even better for me for reading about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1719616038630340283?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1719616038630340283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1719616038630340283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1719616038630340283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1719616038630340283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/12/one-bed-one-bath.html' title='One bed, one bath.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7887728573565933987</id><published>2009-12-03T08:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T08:08:04.232-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You say it's your birthday?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SxfiCHj_9xI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/sLHF-TM76qE/s1600-h/birthday+chi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 211px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 228px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411042003326596882" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SxfiCHj_9xI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/sLHF-TM76qE/s200/birthday+chi.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey Pop Pop Ebs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you enjoy your day and do something fun!  Look for a lil' something special from Zeke in your mailbox!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday and many, many more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love from us-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauly, Nancy, and Zeke&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7887728573565933987?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7887728573565933987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7887728573565933987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7887728573565933987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7887728573565933987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/12/you-say-its-your-birthday.html' title='You say it&apos;s your birthday?'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SxfiCHj_9xI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/sLHF-TM76qE/s72-c/birthday+chi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3105501624551099510</id><published>2009-11-26T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T09:18:38.472-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful.</title><content type='html'>It's Thanksgiving Day 2009. My house smells yummy and I'm getting ready to get the car packed with all my homemade treats and head up to my brother's house for the big feast. And so begins the holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I awoke feeling older and wiser. I used to not really care about Thanksgiving. It was just that pain-in-the-butt day before Black Friday when I was in limbo waiting for all the big sales to start. But today...today is different. I feel...thankful. Yeah, I know, it's nothing too creative or earth shattering due to the fact that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; is CRAMMED with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;every one's&lt;/span&gt; reasons for being blessed and today is the "normal" day everyone stops to give thanks. But even if today weren't Thanksgiving I think I'd feel this way. You see, I watched this movie called Mammoth last night. And Mammoth changed me. It opened my eyes - even more - to the fact that I'm am so extremely lucky to be able to be home with Zeke as he grows up. I won't summarize the movie - go watch it if you have any interest because it really is moving and amazing. But I will say, that as a "stay-at-home-mom" (that title always cracks me up because as so many people know who try to call me and can never get me, I'M NEVER AT HOME!!!), the movie Mammoth sent my brain reeling into that mode of "Oh my God, thank God I'm here with my kid, walking through life with him, giving him everything he needs, and being his rock." At one time, many many centuries ago, I never thought I'd ever want a child. I thought that my life was great just working, having my pups, having lots of money and cool cars and going to dinners and movies and shopping and blah, blah, blah. Then Zeke came along. And my work seemed meaningless if someone else was raising him. So I quit. And we didn't have as much money, but we still felt rich. Even richer, actually, because we all smiled a whole lot more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward four years. Yeah, if I had been working these past four years we may have lots more in savings, lots more in our retirement and tons more "stuff". But my child would also have been raised by a stranger. He wouldn't ask for me when he knocked his front tooth out or when he got road rash on his knees and elbows. I wouldn't have been there to see him write his name for the first time. I wouldn't have held his hand as we strolled through tons of museums and libraries and sat through movies together eating buttery popcorn. And I wouldn't have been the one to hug him tight when something thrilled him, scared him, chilled him or just simply moved him to say "I love you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thankful, eternally, to God, my husband, and to my Zeke for opening my eyes to Thanksgiving. It's real and it's powerful. And it's not all about the countdown to the big sales. Imagine that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3105501624551099510?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3105501624551099510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3105501624551099510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3105501624551099510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3105501624551099510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/11/higher-understanding.html' title='Thankful.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3391020405528287159</id><published>2009-11-19T17:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T17:28:34.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lemonhead</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow Zeke and I have to take all three of the dogs to the vet.  Two people, three canines...going to the vet.  Doesn't sound like a recipe for goodness.  Otto may already have an idea based on the fact that he's half human and probably peeked at the calendar hanging on my fridge.  Timmy is clueless and won't realize what's going on until Dr. Jane sticks a needle the size of his leg into his back.  And Simon?  Let's just say that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sy&lt;/span&gt; won't go down without a fight (and a tiny little muzzle - get out the hair &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;scrunchie&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note:  this evening I was finally able to pick my first lemon off of my Mother's Day Lemon Tree.  I've been waiting for about 150 days (literally) to pick this lemon and I've never tasted something so sour but so sweet.   That tree was given to me out of love, I've nurtured it and babied it since I saw it, and to see it so happy and so healthy makes me smile.  It's tiny little things like a homegrown lemon that count people...really, they do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3391020405528287159?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3391020405528287159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3391020405528287159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3391020405528287159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3391020405528287159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/11/lemonhead.html' title='Lemonhead'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-8000927791676484710</id><published>2009-11-15T14:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T14:51:04.249-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thieves like us.</title><content type='html'>Today's weather put me in such a good mood.  It was sunny and 70 - the perfect day to get outside and rake some leaves, plant some ornamental cabbages, and tidy up the front of the house.  My puppies and my boys were out there with me and the sun was shining down on us as if there wasn't a problem in the world.  Sounds idyllic, huh?  Well, don't be fooled.  My bubble was burst a few nights ago and since then, I've been walking around with a big chip on my shoulder.  Here's the deal:  8 years ago, Pauly and I moved to this neighborhood because we loved the fact that it was quiet and peaceful and that we had a really pretty horse farm backing up to our property.  We fell in love with the land and the house and the views and decided we'd take a chance and make it ours.   Well, on Friday night both of our vehicles were robbed.  You see, it's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; quiet and peaceful around here, that we tend to leave our cars out of the garage, unlocked and sometimes even with the windows rolled down!  It was always just "that type of neighborhood".  Not anymore.  Now it's one of "those types of neighborhoods".  Ya' know...the type that has &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;thieves&lt;/span&gt; walking around in them.  How pathetic.  How disgusting.  And really, how life-changing.  Now, it's really no big deal when I think about what they took:  my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt;, my GPS, some gift cards, Pauly's laptop, etc.  All of the items stolen can and will be replaced.  What can't be replaced is that feeling of "wow, what a great place this is to live in".  I no longer feel that way.  Now I'm nervous.  Now I'm checking and double-checking the doors at night.  Now I'm parking in the garage.  Now I'm leaving bright lights on outside and disturbing the nocturnal wildlife that used to hang around our property in the faint light of the moon.  It's sad.  And it's unnatural.  We should all be able to co-exist and live peacefully - with each other and with the animals around us.  But somewhere along the way it has gotten all muddled up.  And in that muddled mess, fear has been bred.  I just don't know how to explain to the next generation why we need to acknowledge that fear and slap locks on everything.  Because really, I don't believe we should have to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-8000927791676484710?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/8000927791676484710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=8000927791676484710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8000927791676484710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8000927791676484710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/11/thieves-like-us.html' title='Thieves like us.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7896814358456031975</id><published>2009-11-09T16:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T16:54:27.165-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*sigh*</title><content type='html'>I'm a little irritated today.  Irritated because some things just don't work out exactly the way I want them to all of the time.  Today is one of those days.  A day that gets under my skin, gnaws at my gut, and reminds me that I can't and won't ever be fully in control of everything.  That...that little fact...really seems to put a damper on things.  Today the fact that I have Lupus is bringing me down.  And I've refused for many years to allow the "L" word to sink it's teeth into my psyche or my soul.  But today is different because today I find it hard to hold a pen or even type this post.  Today the Lupus is attacking the bones in my hands and well, it just really sucks.  I've dropped so many things in the past 24 hours that I've stopped counting.  I've winced in pain as I tried to grab the bag of groceries from the guy at Giant.  And I've gulped down a ton of Motrin trying to forget that my hands are fighting a battle that is ongoing and downright irritating.  But more than anything, I feel a little bit defeated when I get like this.   Is this really how it's going to be?  Am I going to allow something like Lupus control my destiny and my life?  And more importantly, do I have a choice?  I'm saying YES.  Yes I have a choice and yes I'm going to be fine.  Because that's the path I choose.  The hand thing?  This will pass.  Just like the knee &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt; passed a few weeks ago.  And the neck &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt;, and the hip &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt;, and the eye &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt;, etc., etc., etc.  They all came and went and I was still left here..."just plain Nancy".  The Lupus won't be a part of who I am...it'll just be a gnat flying around my head as I trek through life.  But &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;some days&lt;/span&gt;...gosh, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;some days&lt;/span&gt; that gnat just keeps buzzing a little too close to my ear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7896814358456031975?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7896814358456031975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7896814358456031975' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7896814358456031975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7896814358456031975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/11/sigh.html' title='*sigh*'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7662618253629882240</id><published>2009-11-04T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T11:14:31.281-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weenie meanies.</title><content type='html'>Wow.  It's been a while since I've posted.  Life moves fast when you're in the left lane, I suppose.  In my mind, I try to stay in neutral..ya' know..look around, smell the roses, that sort of thing..but in reality I think I'm always zipping about trying to accomplish this, that, and the other thing.  If I'm not actually doing something, I'm THINKING about what I'm GOING to be doing in the near future.  But that's a story for a later date. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what's new news here, you ask?  Halloween '09 happened.  I found the actual Halloween night to be a MAJOR, COMPLETE, TOTAL bomb.  Lucky for Zeke, he had about 3 or 4 other events before the 31st to celebrate and wear his costume.  I, on the other hand, just didn't get my fill of the 'Weenie.  To start off, it rained.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I've trick-or-treated in the rain before and still scored tons of loot.  Rain can be dealt with.  But here's what made the night really lame:  Zeke and I were the only people out on our street knocking on doors.  One guy didn't even know why we were at his doorstep!!!!  It was a very awkward moment - my kid and me standing there, hands out, smiling big, and this guy in his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;lounge wear&lt;/span&gt; looking at us with a puzzled stare.  WHAT DID HE THINK "TRICK OR TREAT" MEANT????? OH MY GOD.  By the time we got home, we were wet, sweaty (because it was a humid, muggy, rainy night and God knows we have to walk like 26 miles to get to 7 houses around here....SO not worth it) and in horrible moods.  The one thing I knew would cheer both Zeke and me up was the dumping of the candy onto the kitchen table and the celebration of the score.  So, we took off our wet gear, put away the flashlights, and ran for the kitchen with the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;goodie&lt;/span&gt; bag.  Zeke dumped the HUMONGOUS bag onto the table as we all held our breath and.................................6 candy bars dropped out.  6. SIX. Six. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SIIIIIXXXXX&lt;/span&gt;.  And about 4 of them were tiny little bite sized bars.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;.  What was the point of this 'Weenie Mission?  Why did we even trek all around our neighborhood, knocking on doors, making small talk, showing off the costume, etc., etc.???  I mean, I had an entire bowl of enormous Snickers bars sitting at the front door just waiting for some Michael Jackson Ghosts or Transformers to show up and hold out their goody bags!  Couldn't I have simply filled Zeke's bag up with our own stash?  The answer is simple:  no.  Halloween is about getting out there and visiting your neighbors.  Not &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; them, not emailing them, not phoning them, and not simply waving to them as you do 40 m.p.h. past their driveway in a rush to get to your next appointment.  It's a time to pretend - a time for the kids to pretend they're someone or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; else and for us parents to pretend we actually have the time to stand on each others' doorsteps and chat for a bit.  And that's why next year, despite the 6 tiny little candy bars in Zeke's huge bag, we'll still be out there all alone in our neighborhood, knocking on doors and saying "Happy Halloween".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7662618253629882240?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7662618253629882240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7662618253629882240' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7662618253629882240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7662618253629882240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/11/weenie-meanies.html' title='Weenie meanies.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-4316366232921468617</id><published>2009-10-23T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T12:48:26.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October List</title><content type='html'>Some things Zeke and I like at the moment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  fresh apples dipped in crunchy peanut butter&lt;br /&gt;2.  seeing Petey the neighbor horse at the corner everyday.  He loves the fall weather - NO FLIES to bother him!&lt;br /&gt;3.  this new pink colored Dove soap that smells &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; yummy&lt;br /&gt;4.  staying up late when the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Phillies&lt;/span&gt; are on...even though we're bandwagon fans.&lt;br /&gt;5.  our parakeet's obsession with our chihuahuas&lt;br /&gt;6.  my lemon tree.  even though he's been moved indoors, he's thriving.&lt;br /&gt;7.  all of the awesome candy choices in the H&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;alloweenie&lt;/span&gt; aisles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things that really stink:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  the H1N1 flu mania&lt;br /&gt;2.  the fact that it seems to rain every single weekend&lt;br /&gt;3.  the fact that the wind blows down our super-awesome spooky &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Halloween&lt;/span&gt; decorations outside&lt;br /&gt;4.  dry skin&lt;br /&gt;5.  everyone seems to be getting sick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, one thing that strikes me as really odd:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Zeke continues to stand on his head.  A lot.  And everywhere.  At home, at school, at the park, in the playground, even at the doctor's office.  It's just strange.  What's even stranger is the fact that I'm the one who ends up with the headache.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-4316366232921468617?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/4316366232921468617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=4316366232921468617' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4316366232921468617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4316366232921468617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/10/october-list.html' title='October List'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6629326816006210837</id><published>2009-10-11T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T15:34:44.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I think you've got something in your teeth.  Oh, nevermind, it's just a swing.</title><content type='html'>Things must have been getting too quiet around here.  Craziness came a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;knockin&lt;/span&gt;' on Thursday as I drove to pick up Zeke at school.  My &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;celly&lt;/span&gt; rang and it was his teacher informing me that there was an accident on the playground and Zeke's mouth intercepted a swing.  He was crying and only wanted to talk to me about it.  I was only 5 minutes away at that point, but factoring in the "mommy lead foot" effect, I made it to school before the song playing on my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt; was over.  I ran in and grabbed my little guy while simultaneously doing a once over...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, all fingers, toes, limbs, eyes and head in place...but then I noticed all of the blood on his sweatshirt.  In my world it was bad.  I told the teachers I could handle it from there and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;whisked&lt;/span&gt; him away in my car.  Now, as my good old friend &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Weezie&lt;/span&gt; will tell you, I am NOT GOOD in emergencies.  I freeze up.  I choke.  I panic.  As I drove with my injured kiddo in the back, I wondered silently...where am I going???  Hospital?  To my mom's?  To Pauly's office?  To the park so I can pretend that none of this happened???  As it turned out, I drove home, pulled Zeke out of the car and surveyed the damages a bit more closely.  No cuts on the face, no bruising.  I lifted his top lip and OH MY GOD...THE GAPING BLOODY HOLE was staring at me.  His inner, upper lip was completely torn up and his top front tooth was bloody.  My heart stopped and my mind went blank.  I handed Zeke his school bag and told him to go inside for a minute.  He was still crying  a little bit and simply asked me "but what about my bent tooth?"   &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ummmm&lt;/span&gt;, yeah, what about it, I wondered.  I stared into my cell phone for a minute and realized I had to GET MY &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SHIZZLE&lt;/span&gt; TOGETHER.  Like now.  Then it happened.  I snapped into full-scale trauma mode and went into overdrive.  I ran in and started treating the cut lip and "bent tooth" with one hand and dialed the doctor and dentist with the other.  The doctor told me the cut would heal on it's own - no matter how grotesque looking it was.  We had to ride it out.  The tooth was a different animal tho.  The dentist told me to get to the office - STAT.  Two x-rays later and it was revealed that Zeke's front tooth had been hit so hard that the roots were fractured up above the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;gum line&lt;/span&gt;.  There is no treatment for this type of trauma other than tooth extraction.  I left there with a copy of the x-rays, a script for an antibiotic, and a referral for the oral surgeon.  The next day, 8 am sharp, we were in the oral surgeon's office awaiting the extraction.  By 10:30, my little baby boy was out of surgery and minus a front tooth while I was PLUS a migraine the size of the Ukraine.  It was time to go home, pull the blinds, and snuggle up for the day as we both recovered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This saga has been nuts.  It has given me a serious look at how a sick kid can &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;devastate&lt;/span&gt; your soul and make you rethink all that is important in your world.  Zeke's mouth is healing and his swollen lip is receding.  Soon all he'll be left with is a gap in the front of his mouth that I'll somehow find super-cute.  I'm just thankful that a toothless smile is the biggest problem this has led us to...for that, I'm eternally thankful.  Well, that, and the fact that school pictures were taken on Monday - 3 days before that smile got ransacked...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6629326816006210837?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6629326816006210837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6629326816006210837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6629326816006210837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6629326816006210837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-think-youve-got-something-in-your.html' title='I think you&apos;ve got something in your teeth.  Oh, nevermind, it&apos;s just a swing.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6927982676771273720</id><published>2009-10-06T11:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T11:26:38.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Small time and liking it.</title><content type='html'>Today has me thinking.  Like "deep thinking" thinking.  It all started when Zeke attended a gymnastics class with his friend Kyle.  Kyle's gym had "Bring a Friend Day" and Zeke was invited to check it out with Kyle.  Zeke was nervous at first and even shed a few tears when he realized I wouldn't be in the gym with him, but after he saw how much fun it was, he warmed right up to it.  After the class was over, his teacher raved on and on to me about Zeke's athletic skills and how he could quite possibly hang with the older kids in the 6 to 10 year-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt;.  Now, I know she meant this as a complement, but it just spoke volumes to me about life in general.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Everyone is &lt;/span&gt;in a rush.  A rush to get somewhere, a rush to get ahead, a rush to MAKE IT.  And here it is, starting in a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;preschooler's&lt;/span&gt; gymnastics class!  Zeke wasn't bored in the 3 &amp;amp; 4 year-old class.  He was smiling and running and generally having a great time.  He never once said to me that he'd like to move on to something more difficult or challenging or older.  In fact, he seemed to actually enjoy just PLAYING...with no huge competition.  Just innocent play.  It made me think about all the pressure that will be resting on my boy's shoulders someday.  And it made me realize that that pressure isn't going to start now in a gymnastics class.  For now, he's going to run around with 3 and 4 year-o&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lds&lt;/span&gt;.  And he's not going to have to excel physically or athletically to impress me.  And most of all, he's going to laugh like he means it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6927982676771273720?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6927982676771273720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6927982676771273720' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6927982676771273720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6927982676771273720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/10/small-time-and-liking-it.html' title='Small time and liking it.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1897438066993253932</id><published>2009-10-03T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T07:00:32.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Retro wheels.</title><content type='html'>It seems that I've caused quite a stir for replacing my old car with the SAME EXACT make, model, and color car.  I'm a little surprised and flattered by this.  I didn't know people cared so much about what I drove.  Here's the deal:  I searched around for about 3 months for the perfect car for my needs.  I drove a few, scouted out a few, and googled a few.  Nothing seemed to fit.  Some were too big, some were too small, and some were just plain too fancy.  Pauly doesn't do fancy.  Nancy does fancy.  But Pauly reigns me in.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Soooo&lt;/span&gt; sad.  But, he's right...it's crazy to spend $60K on a CAR.  So, after some thought, I realized...I like what I have but I just needed it updated.  So that's what we did.  The dealer added in a few extra bells &amp;amp; whistles and poof!  I have my "old" car sitting in my driveway...but it's new.  And I'm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1897438066993253932?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1897438066993253932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1897438066993253932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1897438066993253932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1897438066993253932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/10/retro-wheels.html' title='Retro wheels.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-2558002155481158625</id><published>2009-09-29T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T13:27:59.797-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brusied and contused.</title><content type='html'>'&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tis&lt;/span&gt; the season for fall festivals.  This past weekend we went to one in the Chester County area and Zeke had a ball.  I enjoyed it aside from the fact that I twisted my ankle about (literally) 6 times.  Have any of you guys seen those green tennis-ball looking thingy-things on the ground around here?  They're everywhere.  Pick 'em up and smell them and they're a lemon/Mr. Clean hybrid.  I think it's actually possible to score a cheap high on the scent.  I digress.  So these tennis-ball thingy-things are ankle crackers.  Especially with improper footwear on.  Which is typically the case in my world.  But, bruised ankles aside, Zeke had fun and our calendar is jam-packed with fall festivals galore.  I'll be sure to revise my footwear &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-2558002155481158625?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/2558002155481158625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=2558002155481158625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2558002155481158625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2558002155481158625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/09/brusied-and-contused.html' title='Brusied and contused.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1508351179532085127</id><published>2009-09-25T18:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T18:07:11.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bliss.</title><content type='html'>Pauly and I are back from Watch Hill, RI.  This marks the first time that we left Zeke and took a trip alone since he was born.  Crazy stuff.  Although this was a business trip for Pauly, he wanted me to come along since there were a few dinners and luncheons where spouses were welcome.  It was nice to get away and feel like an adult again, but my oh my did I miss my Zekey-pants.  Watch Hill was beautiful.  It's a beach town with tons of character and beautiful homes to match.  While the guys were in meetings, the girls took tours, went sightseeing, and visited nearby Mystic, CT.  Give me a few weeks of mommyville again and I'll be ready to go back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1508351179532085127?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1508351179532085127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1508351179532085127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1508351179532085127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1508351179532085127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/09/bliss.html' title='Bliss.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1072036835251363496</id><published>2009-09-19T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T09:03:42.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Egg on his face (windshield).</title><content type='html'>It's a gorgeous fall-y September morning.  I woke up early, showered, dressed and woke up the boys to get a start to the day.  I wanted to go out to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wegman's&lt;/span&gt; to stock the pantry for Mom Mom Cookie's arrival this weekend so that she and Zeke could have some fun eating snacks and catching up.  As we drove out of our neighborhood, what did I see???  THE PRIVATE PROPERTY PIRATE.  Maybe you remember, maybe you don't..but about this time last year a big, fat, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mulleted&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;camouflaged&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;UFC&lt;/span&gt;-watching, cheap beer drinking, poop-toothed a-hole decided it was going to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to hunt for deer in the woods in my 'hood.  I had words with him regarding this &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt; and told him it was against the law to hunt private property and more importantly, so close to, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ummmm&lt;/span&gt;, PEOPLE....and the mud muncher told me that he "was the law" so he wasn't worried about it.  That was the point in the conversation that I explained to him my feelings on his hunting habit (i.e. that it was a shame he was scraping the barrel so lowly that he had to shoot Bambi for his din-din instead of hitting up the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Genuardi's&lt;/span&gt; produce aisle.  In fact I think I told him that the Florida grapefruits were 3 for a $1 that week and he should look into loading up on his fruit and veggie intake instead of his current protein overload.  I noted his heavily expanded waistline and double chin as proof...).  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Buuuuut&lt;/span&gt;, much to my dismay, he's back and creeping again in the woods.  Looks like I need to buy myself a dozen eggs and teach him a lesson or two...or twelve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1072036835251363496?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1072036835251363496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1072036835251363496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1072036835251363496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1072036835251363496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/09/egg-on-his-face-windshield.html' title='Egg on his face (windshield).'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-2859148028802470783</id><published>2009-09-18T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T07:48:54.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Game Wrap Up</title><content type='html'>Week One of preschool is over.  It went &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;smashingly&lt;/span&gt; well to my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;supergigantichugelyenormous&lt;/span&gt; surprise.  I fully expected nuclear meltdown in the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;carline&lt;/span&gt; when we pulled up to do the day one drop off.  You see, in Zeke's school, we do drop off and pick up the good '&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt; American way - drive &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; style.  It's a very &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sweeeeeeeeeet&lt;/span&gt; method - I get to stay in the car while the teacher comes out and does the dirty work of prying Zeke out of his cartoon-and-cereal-bubble into the real world of A-B-C&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;'s&lt;/span&gt; and 1-2-3's.  I went through a few periods last year when Zeke threw the backpack aside, attached himself to my car's headrest, and held on for dear life rather than be yanked into the "real world".  Oh, and I should say thanks to Teacher Mary for doing a bang-up job of prying his strong-as-stainless-steel fingertips out of my car leather each and every time during those rough periods and finally getting him into the classroom kicking and screaming.  Seems that once she got him in there, he really did enjoy himself after all.    But for this week, at least, the removal tactics have not yet had to be deployed.  All systems were a go and Zeke's new teacher - Teacher Joyce - seems to have gotten him on her side early in the game.  Let's just see if she has the all the right moves to keep him there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-2859148028802470783?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/2859148028802470783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=2859148028802470783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2859148028802470783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2859148028802470783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/09/post-game-wrap-up.html' title='Post Game Wrap Up'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1030054272484151071</id><published>2009-09-10T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T16:41:01.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ring the bell.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SqmONARk9sI/AAAAAAAAA3A/3Lsvvx4FeEU/s1600-h/9-10-09+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 189px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 216px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379987583933937346" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SqmONARk9sI/AAAAAAAAA3A/3Lsvvx4FeEU/s200/9-10-09+001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; This sums up Zeke's attitude about ending his summer vacation and beginning preschool today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1030054272484151071?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1030054272484151071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1030054272484151071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1030054272484151071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1030054272484151071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/09/ring-bell.html' title='Ring the bell.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SqmONARk9sI/AAAAAAAAA3A/3Lsvvx4FeEU/s72-c/9-10-09+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-2652864001355952130</id><published>2009-09-09T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T18:30:18.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'>45 pounds of liver.</title><content type='html'>Zeke starts his second year of preschool tomorrow.  Well, he doesn't technically "start"...he goes in for an hour while I go to the school meetinghouse and talk parent business.  But still.  He's out of my sight.  Out of my control.  Out of my life.  For an hour.  Might not sound long to you, but to me?  It's VERY VERY long.  You see, I grew a second liver when I had a baby.  Or a third kidney.  However you want to put it.  All I know is an extra appendage/organ grew.  And grew and grew and grew.  And now every day it seems to get bigger and heavier and tougher to manage.  I have to decide if it's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; for it to go certain places, for certain people to influence it, for it to be exposed to certain television/radio shows.  I have to make sure this appendage doesn't get hurt or too tired or too hungry or too thirsty.  This appendage is, well...special to me.  For some reason, for the past four years and some odd months, my body hasn't been able to function without it.  Strange what those little appendages do to you, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-2652864001355952130?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/2652864001355952130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=2652864001355952130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2652864001355952130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2652864001355952130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/09/45-pounds-of-liver.html' title='45 pounds of liver.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1823677346403050922</id><published>2009-09-03T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T12:35:27.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'Doing it up.</title><content type='html'>It's a shame for Mary.  Mary is the sweet, very patient woman that cuts Zeke's hair.  Today, Mary earned every dollar I paid her.  You see, I haven't taken Zeke for a haircut all summer.  He's been rocking the buzz cut for a while and I can just clip that easily enough at home.  So, it was bye-bye Mary for a while there.  And I could tell that a problem was brewing early this morning when Zeke bristled at the fact that he was to going to get reacquainted with Mary later on in the afternoon.  My plan of action was to tire him out at the park, feed him, then let Mary attack with the clippers.  Zeke had other plans.  When we arrived at the salon the meltdown commenced.  There were tears, screams, fists flying, feet stomping, frowns and shouts everywhere.   I had to pick him up and place him on the seat.  Not too cool.  He finally settled in for the cut and I thought had taken on a better attitude about the whole &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt; since Mary hooked him up with two lollipops.  Not true, unfortunately.  After Mary brushed him off and told him what a good boy he ended up being, she instructed him to trot over to the mirror to check out his new 'do.  Zeke did.  When he saw his haircut, he pulled his lollipop out of his mouth long enough to announce to the entire salon that he looked like a "goofball".  What a jerk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1823677346403050922?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1823677346403050922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1823677346403050922' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1823677346403050922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1823677346403050922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/09/doing-it-up.html' title='&apos;Doing it up.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-820398224218711039</id><published>2009-09-01T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T15:25:02.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/Sp2b3HjjiXI/AAAAAAAAA14/6F8BVeDANCM/s1600-h/8-20-09+043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 251px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376624901373528434" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/Sp2b3HjjiXI/AAAAAAAAA14/6F8BVeDANCM/s200/8-20-09+043.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There are going to be people who read this post and roll their eyes, sigh, and shake their heads.  And really, I don't think that's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.  Because what I'm going to write about is life.  And the reverence for it.  Now, brace yourself, because the "V word" is about to be mentioned yet again.  Vick, that is.  As in, Michael Vick, the shithead football player that the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Crapadelphia&lt;/span&gt; Eagles just signed not so long ago.  The Vick topic was once again mentioned on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; and it started my animal rights wheels turning.  The author of the topic stated his opinion that in no way was an animal's life as important as a human being's.  The hairs on the back of my neck stood WAY up as I read that.  I steadied my emotions, cooled the steam in my head, and tried to reason with myself.  How could it be possible that I equate an animal life to a human life?  How do they compare?  And here's what I came up with:  I can't reason it.  I can't judge it.  If I didn't create either completely amazing entity, then how can I place value on them?  Sure, to us as humans, our "baby humans" are worth their weight in gold.  But what about a baby cow, horse, or duck?  How do we know that the proud parents of those sweeties don't feel the same?  Because they lack the verbal skills to communicate it?  Because they can't write it down in a letter?  What a sad and ignorant people are we if we lack the judgment and heart to realize that the animal kingdom is not our creation.  It's simply a gift on loan for us to admire and yes, sometimes love.  Only the creator of all of us, including the animals, is in a position to deem one more worthy of life than the other.  Until then, we should live together, respecting each other's place on this earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-820398224218711039?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/820398224218711039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=820398224218711039' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/820398224218711039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/820398224218711039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/09/rant.html' title='Rant.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/Sp2b3HjjiXI/AAAAAAAAA14/6F8BVeDANCM/s72-c/8-20-09+043.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1505413465425055213</id><published>2009-08-23T15:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T15:21:44.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And you know you don't want to be on that second list.</title><content type='html'>Some funny things at the moment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  my parakeets have been loose and on the run (around the upstairs of my house) for 48 hours.  They go back to their cage at night but as soon as the sun rises, they're in flight mode.  And yes, I've been finding myself vacuuming and wiping up bird &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;doodie&lt;/span&gt;.  I feel it's a small price to pay for the jungle-like atmosphere they're providing.  I love those little birdies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I found one of the little parakeets perched on Timmy's (my sweet chihuahua) tail earlier today while Timmy was asleep in his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;doggie&lt;/span&gt; bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Zeke and the Under Armour &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt;.  He thinks he's the bee's knees in his Under Armour.  It's pretty hilarious/ridiculous.  Must post picture soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I had a random snapshot of Zeke sitting on my dresser the other day.  I had put it aside to slip into a scrapbook.  I found it today, on the floor of the hallway, with the name "Zeke" scrawled across the back in a 4-year-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;old's&lt;/span&gt; handwriting.  I asked Zeke if he wrote his name on the back and why, and he said it was so that I'd always remember who it was in the picture.  Like I'd ever forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  An older woman in front of me at Rite Aid was picking up about 9 prescriptions today along with asking the pharmacist to "sort out her pill bottle".  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ummmmm&lt;/span&gt;, the pill bottle contained about 4,936 pills in every color of the rainbow.  What the?????  She then proceeded to tell the pharmacist that her head hasn't been the same since she "ran her car into that tree..."   &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;.  Buckle up for safety, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, a few things that are currently on my nerves:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  my rental car.  I want my own car back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  my hair.  I need Dawn to work her magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.   the fact that it's about that time when all of my dentist/doctor appointments come due.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;DOOOOOOOOOOOOD&lt;/span&gt;, that's total B.S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I need a pedicure but I'm afraid of dirty nail salons.  I don't like someone else peeling skin off of me and the smell of those places sends me into the Migraine Hall of Fame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  School starts soon and that means that Zeke will be gone 4 days a week.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, it's only 2.5 hours a day, but still....4 days a week is A LOT!!!!  3 days a week was fine last year.  Why did he have to get a year older?????  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1505413465425055213?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1505413465425055213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1505413465425055213' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1505413465425055213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1505413465425055213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/08/and-you-know-you-dont-want-to-be-on.html' title='And you know you don&apos;t want to be on that second list.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-4298759855925613507</id><published>2009-08-20T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T19:25:07.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good TImes.</title><content type='html'>August is flying on by at warp speed.  I know this because my birthday is right around the corner.  I say this with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;gleeeeeeeeeeeeee&lt;/span&gt; in my heart knowing that Pauly and Zeke will make my day special in their own funny ways.  Pauly, if you're reading this, I'll forward you some links for gift ideas...we all know how brutal your jewelry taste can be.  Think red necklace Pauly, red necklace.  Anyway, Zeke and I have been enjoying this final spurt of summer to it's fullest and here's what we've been doing (in as few words as possible):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we've seen a travelling petting zoo, cat sat for a few weeks and fell in love with her (the cat), went to see Blue's Clues Live! and met the "real" Steve (I like Joe better), played on the beach and witnessed a beach wedding, explored the Delaware Museum of Natural History with friends, we camped with Mom Mom Mare and Poppy, we went to the library and finally confessed to losing Percy and the Pirates (only cost $8.95, oh well), ate a lot of fresh corn on the cob from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wynoor&lt;/span&gt; Farms, hid Otto in 4,951 of Zeke's stuffed animal friends, went to Dutch Wonderland and it was clean, went to Sesame Place and it was dirty, saw the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Chik&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Fil&lt;/span&gt;-A cow and realized most of our table was eating McDonald's food,  we had an afternoon pizza date - just the 2 of us, we Chuck E. Cheesed with Brandon, took pony rides, nursed Pauly through an infected spider bite that required antibiotics, played on the Sporty Squiggles Sports Team, celebrated many birthdays (happy b-day Rocco, Tristan, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Lukey&lt;/span&gt;, and Meadow!), took swim lessons with Corey, fed the geese down the street, pampered the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;horsies&lt;/span&gt; on the corner with apple and peppermint snacks, ate unbelievable pizza at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tacconelli's&lt;/span&gt; with the Duffs (had such a good time - love them!), saw a Blue Heron at the pond down the street, bat watched, helped Tommy and Sue move into their beautiful new home (or rather helped them break in the new pool!), and finally, we had a slumber party at the Hampton Inn in Bethlehem with Mom Mom Mare and Poppy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a full month or two.  And I've loved spending it with my favorite kid in the world...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-4298759855925613507?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/4298759855925613507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=4298759855925613507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4298759855925613507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4298759855925613507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/08/good-times.html' title='Good TImes.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7017077881313983618</id><published>2009-08-13T18:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T18:09:14.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loser.</title><content type='html'>I'm at a loss right now.  An absolute loss.  I just heard on the t.v. that Michael Vick has been signed to the Philadelphia Eagles.  People, don't even mess with me on this one.  Don't argue the point, don't give me opposing points of view...just go with me.  I am ADAMANT that this man be banned from being allowed to PLAY any sport let alone be paid tons of money to do so.   I can't even begin to tell anyone how deeply I'm hurt with this decision.  Doesn't anyone have any respect for the animals on this earth anymore?  Surely there must be someone, just one person out there, who understands.  Michael Vick doesn't deserve another dime.  Nothing.  But...he will be getting millions.  To play football.  Again.  After he tortured and killed dogs.  Nice.  Really gives me lots of faith in the human race...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7017077881313983618?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7017077881313983618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7017077881313983618' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7017077881313983618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7017077881313983618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/08/loser.html' title='Loser.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3752018323346115699</id><published>2009-08-12T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T18:30:56.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crumpled</title><content type='html'>So it's been not-so-fab around here.  And here's why:  on Saturday we were in a car accident.  Thankfully, all three of us were fine, but it was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waaaaaay&lt;/span&gt; scary.  Oh, and my car?  Not good.  It has $6K worth of damage and won't be out of the shop for weeks.  I'm sad and depressed that I'm now driving around in a disgusting rental car.  The thing that's making me more sad is the fact that Zeke is a paranoid back-seat driver now.  He seems to be afraid that we're going to get in another accident.  It's not good.  I guess it'll pass but I just wish he didn't have to experience the terror that comes along with a pretty significant car accident at such a young age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides the accident, another thing weighing on me is the imposing fear that summer is coming to an end.  I feel it.  I sense it.  I see it on t.v. with all of the back-to-school ads.  Most of all, I know it's coming because my birthday will be here soon (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wooooohoooo&lt;/span&gt;!).  As soon as my birthday ends, summer ends.  Sad.  I'm hoping that my attitude will change, as it does most years, and I'll get excited for fall...but so far I'm not feeling it.  One bright note:  I checked out &lt;a href="http://www.thefoxandthecrow.blogspot.com/"&gt;Missy's blog&lt;/a&gt; and it pumped me up for some fall fashion.  Thanks Missy - and I LOVE the Equestrian Frye Boots!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3752018323346115699?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3752018323346115699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3752018323346115699' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3752018323346115699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3752018323346115699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/08/crumpled.html' title='Crumpled'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-42301734542123905</id><published>2009-08-05T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T19:27:28.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sigh, headshake, eyes-r-rolling...</title><content type='html'>Way too much sports-related stuff going on in my life at the moment.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Phillies&lt;/span&gt;, rumblings of the Eagles, and just to ramp it up a bit....4 nights a week of pee wee football.   Can't...go....into...full...story....yet.   I'm just now understanding that summer may be coming to an abrupt end before I've really gotten my toes wet yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-42301734542123905?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/42301734542123905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=42301734542123905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/42301734542123905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/42301734542123905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/08/sigh-headshake-eyes-r-rolling.html' title='sigh, headshake, eyes-r-rolling...'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6558051841944604554</id><published>2009-08-02T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T18:42:59.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Quest(ion)</title><content type='html'>We thought we had a good idea to take off on Saturday and head for the beach.  "Just do a quickie day trip" Pauly and I said to each other.  After all, that's one of the perks of living so close to the sea, huh?  Sadly, everyone else had the same idea.  A car ride that should have taken an hour and 45 minutes was painfully stretched into almost 5 hours because of traffic.  To be fair, I must disclose that 2 potty breaks were inserted into that 5 hours, but &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;c'mon&lt;/span&gt;...5 HOURS?????  Brutal.  Honestly, I think I would have rather a re-do of the Sesame Place Massacre that was put upon me last weekend (long story, but let me just say that S.P. is horrific and I'll never go back:  dirty, crowded, smelly...need I say more?).  I CAN say that once we planted ourselves on the beach, it was nice.  But even then, I felt like I was smothered by tons of other sea-worshippers.  I'm not sure anymore of what exactly is relaxing.  It's a constant quest...something of a mystery now that Pauly is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;uber&lt;/span&gt;-connected to work both physically (via &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Crackberry&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; computer) and mentally.  Running miles and miles away from home to supposedly "get away from it all" didn't quite work out this weekend.  And now that I think about it, why did we run?  We should have stopped to smell the flowers right here in our own gorgeous backyard.  Note to self:  slow down and slow Pauly down.  Every weekend doesn't need to be action packed to the hilt.  Sometimes just sitting on the deck, hearing the horses and sipping some tea is the best way to escape it all.  How 'bout that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6558051841944604554?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6558051841944604554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6558051841944604554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6558051841944604554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6558051841944604554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/08/question.html' title='The Quest(ion)'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-9058730320183842021</id><published>2009-07-29T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T11:08:43.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pass the kleenex.</title><content type='html'>Time to jot this one down in the baby book:  Zeke doesn't call me "mommy" anymore.  It's strictly "mom".  I find it uncomfortable and way too grown up sounding.  I've gotta go...I can't type through the tears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-9058730320183842021?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/9058730320183842021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=9058730320183842021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/9058730320183842021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/9058730320183842021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/07/pass-kleenex.html' title='Pass the kleenex.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-2485907182529507194</id><published>2009-07-28T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T17:48:03.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want my baby back.</title><content type='html'>And I finally got it.  My computer, that is.  It's been sick, lazy, and completely hung up for the past few weeks so I bit the bullet and parted ways with it a few days ago to let a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;technogeek&lt;/span&gt; tune it up.  But, alas, it's back...and I'm feeling much more connected to the world now.  I felt horrible ignoring this site, leaving it withering on the vine.  And I know all four of the people who read this spectacular slice of literary genius have missed it terribly.  Not to worry though...I'm up and running and as you'll see, life has kept on keeping on while I was away.  Check out our pix to the right - we've had a fun few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I part for the day, here are a few shouts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Good luck Tommy &amp;amp; Susan.  2 weeks will fly by and before you know it you'll be pool partying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Thanks Mom and Dad for letting us bunk out with you last week.  Zeke loved the camping experience and is now addicted to roasting marshmallows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;GWBD&lt;/span&gt; Pauly.  Very important to remember.   And, as always, you rock.  We love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Christopher:  where are you?  Call your sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Oh, and we are kitty cat-sitting for a few weeks for Daisy the cat.  I'm not sure we'll want to give her back after 2 weeks...she's a sweetie.  So, shouts to you Daisy.  Welcome to our &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cribby&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-2485907182529507194?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/2485907182529507194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=2485907182529507194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2485907182529507194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2485907182529507194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-want-my-baby-back.html' title='I want my baby back.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7451342459225074631</id><published>2009-07-12T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T17:44:04.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My life in pictures.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Where have&lt;/span&gt; I been, you ask? Around. It's strange because I look at my calendar sitting here on my desk and I don't really have much written on it. A week-long camp for Zeke here, another one there. But nothing too major. For some reason tho, I'm finding it difficult to fit my blog into my days. It's important to me tho. Important to keep my peeps in the loop of my life and important so that I can look back and simply remember all the times I've spent with my boys. So, here it is. My past week in pictures over there to the right. Enjoy. I know I have. And that's what summer is all about.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357738531389675650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SlqCzsrnmII/AAAAAAAAAxE/pcANufDmyys/s200/july+pix+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7451342459225074631?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7451342459225074631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7451342459225074631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7451342459225074631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7451342459225074631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-life-in-pictures.html' title='My life in pictures.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SlqCzsrnmII/AAAAAAAAAxE/pcANufDmyys/s72-c/july+pix+004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-6165489557813999624</id><published>2009-07-06T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T14:01:59.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby bird.</title><content type='html'>There are times that having a child tests my patience to the extreme.  And I do mean the extreme.  Like, I imagine picking him up, throwing him over my deck and across my back lawn...but then I gather my wits a moment or two later, remembering that, after all, that's why law enforcement was invented.  Conversely, there are times like today that I realize there is no bond and no love stronger than that of a child and his parent.  You see, I've been putting off going to get some blood drawn for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;WEEEEKS&lt;/span&gt; now...it's way, way overdue.  Maybe even 2 months.  I've just ignored it and put tons of other things before it so that I didn't have to deal.  I detest dealing with medical issues.  But today was the day that I knew I had to go, get the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;blood work&lt;/span&gt; done, and simply move on.  So, after Zeke and I met Mom Mom Mare for lunch and did some Target damage, I told him the plan for me to get my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;blood work&lt;/span&gt; completed.  I thought he was fine with it, but about 2 minutes later I heard him burst into tears.  I asked him why he was crying and he told me he didn't want me to get hurt.  It was then that I realized how much this little 45 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;pounder&lt;/span&gt; loved me.  I'm his world, his lifeline.  Now, I know at some point he'll fly from the nest.  I'm just happy that for now, this little nest is so important to him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-6165489557813999624?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/6165489557813999624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=6165489557813999624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6165489557813999624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/6165489557813999624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/07/baby-bird.html' title='Baby bird.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-5529382152798536360</id><published>2009-07-02T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T11:05:37.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrate that, MJ.</title><content type='html'>Warning to all of you Michael Jackson lovers:  this isn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;MJ&lt;/span&gt; friendly territory.  Stop reading if you will be offended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, here we go.  Today I went to clean up the doggies' newspapers.  You see, my pups are all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;paper trained&lt;/span&gt; to go to the potty on newspapers if they're not outside.  It's nice and easy, especially since they're all tiny little guys.  Well, today when I went in to clean up the used papers, I felt a wave of justice run through me.  On one of the used newspapers on the floor, there was a picture of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;MJ&lt;/span&gt; standing on top of a car with his arms up above his head in jubilation.  He was celebrating the fact that he was "cleared" of child molestation charges a few years back.  Now, we all know in the backs of our minds that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;MJ&lt;/span&gt; was more than a bit "strange" when it came to little kids.  In my opinion, it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;unforgivable&lt;/span&gt;.  My sweet revenge this morning???  Apparently one of my chi-chi's agrees with me because when he had to do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;poopie&lt;/span&gt;, he aimed it directly onto &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;MJ's&lt;/span&gt; head.  Thanks puppy dog!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-5529382152798536360?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/5529382152798536360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=5529382152798536360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5529382152798536360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5529382152798536360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/07/celebrate-that-mj.html' title='Celebrate that, MJ.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-8791722881470228686</id><published>2009-06-30T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T16:32:58.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Homefront.</title><content type='html'>It's been a while, huh?  I received a text today from Piggy (Chris, my brother) informing me that my blog was stale and boring and needed updating ASAP.  Well, at least someone is reading.  I'll take it as a complement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are officially done all of our travels for a while now.  We did Disney, then England, and just arrived home from Arizona this past weekend.  I'm tired.  Tired of packing, unpacking, flying, etc., etc.  It was fun and we made some awesome memories, but it'll be nice to be on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;home front&lt;/span&gt; for an "extended stay" (like that, Jaime??).    So, check out the Arizona &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;slide show&lt;/span&gt; and stay tuned for future updates...there's always something going on around here.  And hey Piggy...thanks for reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. out to my mom and dad:  thanks so much for keeping my pups alive while I was gone.  I think they would have packed their bones and left me if you guys hadn't stepped in and cared for them these past few times I've been away.  The King is thankful and so are we - you guys rock!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-8791722881470228686?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/8791722881470228686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=8791722881470228686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8791722881470228686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8791722881470228686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/06/homefront.html' title='Homefront.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-5150664018171709869</id><published>2009-06-18T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T12:51:14.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Get down with the science.</title><content type='html'>Zeke has been at Science Camp all this week.  I've been living vicariously through him.  I know, I know, I'm setting him up for a few decades of "the couch" (a.k.a. psychological counseling) but, it's just so darn cool!  They've been doing some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sweeeeeeeeeeeeet&lt;/span&gt; stuff in that camp!!!  Today, I was spying from the window in the classroom and they were dissecting the stomach contents of an owl!!!  In case you didn't know (and I didn't until Zeke told me), an owl eats birds, so they were finding all types of bird bones and bird skulls in there!  As they found the bones, they matched them up to a diagram to determine which bird bone they had uncovered!  And these kids are 4 and 5 years old!  Very cool stuff in a very easygoing and fun environment.  So, hats off to Teacher Doreen.  She has managed to keep 5 boys, aged 4 and 5 years, interested and behaved for four straight days so far.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ummm&lt;/span&gt;, I wonder if she does weekends...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-5150664018171709869?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/5150664018171709869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=5150664018171709869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5150664018171709869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/5150664018171709869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/06/get-down-with-science.html' title='Get down with the science.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-419363193931162355</id><published>2009-06-14T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T18:51:27.458-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This just in...</title><content type='html'>The big news of the weekend:  Zeke can ride a two-wheeler.  Yep.  It happened.  My baby boy wanted his training wheels off and was ready for the big leagues.  So, we took off the extra appendages on Friday, he jumped on the tiny Trek, and away he went.  It wasn't 100% smooth, there was slight road rash involved, but I'm sad to say that the training wheels are now stuck in a box on the shelf in the garage.  *sigh*  Just one more stage telling me that he's growing up and moving on...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-419363193931162355?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/419363193931162355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=419363193931162355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/419363193931162355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/419363193931162355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-just-in.html' title='This just in...'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-4309096241498107410</id><published>2009-06-10T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T12:46:47.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That's goodness.</title><content type='html'>Random thoughts about some things I like at the moment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. the very awesome tea I brought home from England. The teabags make great hot and iced tea. Yum yum. I'm trying very hard to save some for Pop Pop &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ebs&lt;/span&gt; - he's a tea drinker too. I think he'll appreciate the deliciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. the fact that the nights are warmer and brighter. I just love going hiking at night in the Preserve or in the State Park and not needing a sweatshirt or parka. Love this time of year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. the chihuahua I saw at the pet shop today. He was stunning and sweet and so cuddly. Two reasons he's still at the pet store: A. Pauly and B. I'd rather adopt than buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. the fact that my Dad has me completely obsessed with the stock market and the stock I just bought. Who knew it could be so fun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Petey the horse on our corner is out in the pasture ALL the time now. And he kisses me on the lips now. I think we're officially past dating and now "going steady." Sorry Pauly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-4309096241498107410?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/4309096241498107410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=4309096241498107410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4309096241498107410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4309096241498107410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/06/goodness.html' title='That&apos;s goodness.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-639912916686081475</id><published>2009-06-07T18:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T18:22:09.217-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Horses, my rosegarden, good purses, my "circle"...all the good things in life.</title><content type='html'>Weekend is over in a flash. I feel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;jipped&lt;/span&gt; because Saturday didn't turn out as sunny as promised by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;el&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lamo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;weatherpeople&lt;/span&gt;. We solved that issue by going to the movies to see "Up." Very cute movie and it had a sweet storyline. I actually had tears in my eyes a few times. It had me thinking about life and all the little things I do each day that make me genuinely happy. Think about it...when you're gone from this life, what will people say you enjoyed? Will they even know? If not, figure it out and start doing it. You're not getting any younger, my friends.  Sorry to sh** on your Sunday, but it's true. I'm mentally pledging to myself to learn more, do more, and be more passionate about my interests. When I go from this world, people are gonna' talk. And it's not just gonna' be about how many purses they have to clean out of my spare bedroom...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-639912916686081475?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/639912916686081475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=639912916686081475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/639912916686081475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/639912916686081475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/06/horses-my-rosegarden-good-purses-my.html' title='Horses, my rosegarden, good purses, my &quot;circle&quot;...all the good things in life.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3774791361572738573</id><published>2009-06-02T14:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T14:40:25.432-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sandbox shennanigans.</title><content type='html'>Zeke had soccer today.   His soccer class is held on the field at one of our favorite parks, so we decided to pack a lunch and stay afterwards for a little extra fun.  We met a few friends and hung out for a bit.  As my friends and I were getting lunch ready, there was a pretty large group of boys digging a very, very big hole in the sandbox.  We thought absolutely nothing of the very, very big hole.  As long as no one was arguing, hitting, spitting, or kicking and as long as no one was going head-first &lt;em&gt;into &lt;/em&gt;the hole...no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;problemo&lt;/span&gt;.  That was our big mistake.  If something is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;interesting&lt;/span&gt; to a group of 4 year old boys for an over-extended period of time, it should raise a bright red flag.  Today, for some reason, it didn't.  And that's where the shoe trouble enters.  As it turns out, the 4 year old boys were burying something.  Something that wasn't theirs.  Something that wasn't supposed to be buried...very deep...in a big hole...in the huge sandbox.  They buried Gracie's shoe.  Her tiny pink &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Croc&lt;/span&gt;.  And when we finally discovered that Gracie's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Croc&lt;/span&gt; was missing, there was absolutely NO sign of a hole ever existing in the sandbox.  That is how amazingly well these 4 year old savages cleaned up their mess (for the first time in their small lives).   So, the next 30 minutes were spent by 3 adult women and a few tiny little girls digging and shoveling on hands and knees in the very big, very deep, and very gross sandbox until finally the tiny pink &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Croc&lt;/span&gt; was found.  When asked why the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Croc&lt;/span&gt; was buried, Zeke only replied "because it was treasure." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Argh&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3774791361572738573?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3774791361572738573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3774791361572738573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3774791361572738573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3774791361572738573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/06/sandbox-shennanigans.html' title='Sandbox shennanigans.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3886077691526147242</id><published>2009-05-30T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T13:32:59.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No habla manual labor.</title><content type='html'>It's unbelievably nice out today.  80's and sunny and breezy.  What did we have to do in all of this great weather?  Paint our back deck.  Somehow, I got roped into helping with this "outdoor" job.  I don't see the fairness.  My mental division of labor goes something like this:  anything inside the house that doesn't involve complete &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;disgustingness&lt;/span&gt;, I'll do.  Anything outside of the sticks and bricks, Pauly does.  So why was I on the end of a paintbrush all afternoon?  ON MY HANDS AND KNEES PAINTING THE SKINNY LITTLE SLATS &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;IN BETWEEN&lt;/span&gt; THE DECK .   And if any of you reading this are married, you will understand this...arguing with Pauly ALL afternoon about how all of this manual labor should be done.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ew&lt;/span&gt;.  Not a good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3886077691526147242?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3886077691526147242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3886077691526147242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3886077691526147242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3886077691526147242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/05/no-habla-manual-labor.html' title='No habla manual labor.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-9149882012491124576</id><published>2009-05-28T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T18:59:51.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mortality strike.</title><content type='html'>Today we buried my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;grandmom&lt;/span&gt;.  Well, my brothers and I called her "Nanny".   Of course it was sad and emotional and all that goes with a funeral, but I think what hit me most was the fact that I could actually see my immediate family aging before my very eyes.  I'm getting older, my brothers are getting older, and my parents are getting older.  It freaks me out.  I officially have no grandparents now.  Strange.  It's a sense of loss and empty that's in my heart today but also a sense of appreciation for the fact that I realize that importance of  my "circle".  My family is important to me.  And on days like today, days that we lose and bury someone, it's good to stand next to them and know that I can lean on them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-9149882012491124576?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/9149882012491124576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=9149882012491124576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/9149882012491124576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/9149882012491124576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/05/mortality-strike.html' title='Mortality strike.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-8806905763008960437</id><published>2009-05-24T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T13:46:18.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>England scoop.</title><content type='html'>We're back.  From England, that is.  It was a great place to visit and get to know, but of course I have tons of opinions I need to share with you all.  So here we go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Not all British people have jacked-up teeth.  It was the first thing I investigated, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;beeeeelieve&lt;/span&gt; me.  In fact, it seems they have pretty good dental plans over there and that most of them are indeed flossing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.   I'm not sure why, but England has a very poor potty situation going on.  In many ways.  Here's the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt;:  if/when you DO have to go, finding a potty is tough.  They hide their potties very well.  It's almost as if they're embarrassed at the thought of peeing/pooping.  I wanted to wear a button that said "Even the Queen poops."  But, for me, nope, not enough potties for my general comfort.  I mean, I drink tons of water.  Tons of water = many trips to the loo.  Supply me with facilities &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;puuuleeeze&lt;/span&gt;.  Then, once you do finally find the coveted "toilets" as they call them, it's an adventure.  Now, first let me start with a complement.  I love their potty doors.  They go all the way to the floor.  That's where the U.S. has a major breakdown in potty policy.  I don't like the fact that in a public restroom, the door only comes down to about 18" above the floor.  Why can't it be a full-sized door??? The U.K. got this part of the "toileting" right.  But it stops there.  Once you do your business, the U.K. wants to really, really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;jip&lt;/span&gt; you on the t.p. (toilet paper, that is).  The dispenser gives it to you in SINGLE SHEETS!!  What's that all about???  It takes a good 3 to 4 minutes just to get a sufficient amount of t.p. in hand!  Then when you try to flush your "stuff".....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;.  Their plumbing is ridiculous.   There's no water pressure, no heavy flush, nothing.  A small trickle of water comes down...if you're lucky.  So what's that mean to the potty-goer?  It means you get the &lt;em&gt;former &lt;/em&gt;potty-goer's leftovers, that's what!!!!  Not nice.  So here's my thing:  I need more potties, more paper, and more flush please.  Just more of everything....except for my neighbor's leftovers.  Less of that and more of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;aforementioned&lt;/span&gt; and the potty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sitch&lt;/span&gt; will be golden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  You &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I've got to talk about the driving dealio.  Why drive on the left side?  As far as my research tells me, the U.K. is by far in the minority by choosing to drive on the left.  And they're so uppity about it.  Anytime someone would ask me how I was managing with my driving, if I'd dare say I was having difficulty getting used to driving on the wrong side of the road, those crazy Brits would give me a lathering.  Whatevs, I left my mark on a few curbs and our rental car (I simply couldn't judge the left side and curb-surfed way too much for Pauly's liking). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  That English tea.  Yum.  Double yum.  Now anyone who hangs with me regularly knows that I love tea.  Need tea to survive.  Hot tea, cold tea.  Just tea.  I don't do coffee so tea is my caffeine hit to get me through the day.  But, wow.  The tea I had while in England????  It was like no other tea I've had.  I brought 2 boxes home but I already fear the end of those teabags!!!  So, yes, I love their tea habits and the respect they give tea.  They do tea properly - with little cakes and lots of sugar.  Mmmmmmmm.  Now how do I get a steady IV drip of their tea going through my veins???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Their weather.  Let's just say I didn't worry about getting a sunburn.  And I'm always the one voted "Most Likely to Look Like the Lobster" whenever the sun is shining anywhere.  There was not a good hair day in sight for the entire 7 days I was there.  I have no idea how anyone ever looks good in England.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  The food.  Oh, the food.  Was it really food?  Or was it just white bread and mayonnaise?  And little disgusting sausages and brown lumpy gravy?  Holy crap...I couldn't eat a thing besides Corn Flakes with whole milk that I diluted with water.  It was a really bad food sitch for poor lil' me.  England doesn't like semi-vegetarians.  At all.  In fact, they throw bangers and mash at them and laugh while doing so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I could tell you more, but I don't want you to think that I disliked my trip.  It was fun and new and exciting even though some things were scary and uncomfortable.  It would have been more fun if Pauly wasn't working so much, but hey, that's why we were there in the first place.  Zeke and I were our own little tourguides and discovered tons of things together.  Over "dinner", we'd tell Pauly all about our day and what we had found.  One thing I noticed that was enlightening:  a 4-year-old is a wonderful travel companion.  And even better, it was awesome to introduce him to a totally different country.  He definitely noticed that things were different in the U.K., but assimiliated to the changes pretty quickly.  He knew to ask for 20 pence for the gumball machines, remembered that the Eye of London was a major ferris-wheel type of landmark in London, and even made a little British friend while playing in a playground one afternoon.  Even though she told him he talked funny, they seemed to get along fine and played for a while before saying goodbye.  As they were leaving, little Layla told him to "have fun in America."  Zeke told her bye and that "he liked her country."  That made the trip completely worthwhile to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-8806905763008960437?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/8806905763008960437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=8806905763008960437' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8806905763008960437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8806905763008960437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/05/england-scoop.html' title='England scoop.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-78026138375090573</id><published>2009-05-11T18:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T18:26:24.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I reading her the wrong way???</title><content type='html'>Is it illegal or, well, just impolite to borrow &lt;em&gt;a lot&lt;/em&gt; of books from the library?  I mean, I really want to know what the protocol is on this particular matter.  Because I seem to be having an issue with my local librarian.  Here's the deal:  each time we go to the library (which is about once every 10 days or so), we rent at least 10 or 15 books and magazines.  Today, I ran over to the library by myself while my mom watched Zeke so that I could return some things and borrow a stack of magazines for a long plane trip we're about to take.  Well, as I set the large stack on the counter and said "hi!", Ms. Mean Librarian Lady sighed and scanned my library card - WHICH DIDN'T CONTAIN ANY OVERDUE FEES!!!!  She acted as if I were &lt;em&gt;taking &lt;/em&gt;her own private stash of reading material from her own home!  Is it not my tax dollars that pay for my local library services???  Am I not entitled to borrow as many books as I'd like???  Is there a law on the "books" about some type of limit that I'm not aware of???  Fill me in if you know something I don't.  Because as for me, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;gettin&lt;/span&gt;' the vibe that Ms. Mean Librarian Lady is p.o.'d that I have the April edition of Martha Stewart Living on loan.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Whatevs&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-78026138375090573?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/78026138375090573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=78026138375090573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/78026138375090573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/78026138375090573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/05/am-i-reading-her-wrong-way.html' title='Am I reading her the wrong way???'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-596270452963405993</id><published>2009-05-10T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T14:28:03.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's my day....yeah.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Today is Mother's Day 2009. It's been a great day...thanks to Pauly and Zeke. I thought this weekend was going to be one of those weekends where I hit the ground running and never stopped until Sunday night, but thankfully it wasn't. Plans changed and I was able to take advantage of the unbelievable weather today and do something with my boys that I really, really enjoyed. We FINALLY attended the &lt;a href="http://www.willowdale.org/willowdale/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Willowdale&lt;/span&gt; Steeplechase&lt;/a&gt;. But before that, my day started out on a sour note - literally. Ya' see, recently I've been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;obsessed&lt;/span&gt; with fruit trees. I saw a few in my travels here and there, and I've just really had the urge to try to grow my own fruit. Specifically lemons. I love lemons and lemonade and would love to have fresh lemons growing on my own property. Well, this morning, Pauly surprised me with a gorgeous 5 foot tall lemon tree. Beautiful. I'm excited to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nurture&lt;/span&gt; the tree until I can pick my first lemon and squeeze it into a tall glass of ice water!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After my lemon tree surprise, we got dressed and met Pauly's family at the King Street Grille in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Malvern&lt;/span&gt; for breakfast. If you've never been to King Street...my oh my, you must go. And get the Blueberry Muffin French Toast. You'll never be the same. It's heaven on earth. If you go, tell Randy the chef that Pauly sent you - he'll get a chuckle out of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After our breakfast (which actually turned into lunch!), we headed straight for the Steeplechase. This was the highlight of my day along with my lemon tree. I guess I'm a simple girl if a few lemons and some racehorses make me see stars, huh??? But really, I couldn't have asked for a better day. The fact that we had time to see the horses racing around the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Willowdale&lt;/span&gt; grounds made my weekend amazing. Hearing the pounding of the hooves, seeing the jockeys working the horses...it was all so great. The only thing that made it better was the fact that I had my boys with me and the weather was gorgeous. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks guys for a great Mother's Day. And thanks Zeke for the super secret Mother's Day party at school on Friday. Although you're getting to be such a big boy, I think I'll always remember you like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334309660695891666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 191px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SgdGX7-2jtI/AAAAAAAAAuE/hx2XyjzFYbY/s200/DSCN9966+(2).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;You'll always be my little baby boy... happy, funny, smart, and the life of the party.  Happy Mother's Day to me. Lucky, lucky me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A special P.S. out to my mom:&lt;/strong&gt; I'm not sure how you've done it all these years, but you've managed to keep me in line with all my dramas, plans, successes and failures. Thanks for always listening to the 9:00 a.m. rants and for the Thursday adventures. You're an awesome mama! Happy Mother's Day, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ter&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ter&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/6751785646593159667-596270452963405993?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/596270452963405993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=596270452963405993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/596270452963405993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/596270452963405993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-my-dayyeah.html' title='It&apos;s my day....yeah.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SgdGX7-2jtI/AAAAAAAAAuE/hx2XyjzFYbY/s72-c/DSCN9966+(2).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-8772198927926686916</id><published>2009-05-09T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T09:00:28.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty like a rockstar.</title><content type='html'>Plumbing.  Even the word sounds gross.  PLUMB-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt;.  Plumb.  Like, who wants to plumb something?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ew&lt;/span&gt;.  So, anyway, our upstairs plumbing in our master bath has "crapped the bed" as my brother Chris likes to put it so very eloquently.  No more Band-Aids, no more quick fixes...it's time to do a complete overhaul and rip the entire bathroom out and start from scratch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, folks....cue the music: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt;!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lived with this ridiculous powder blue nightmare for seven years.  Seven.  Count 'em.  Seven.  Oh my God.  I tried paint.  I thought of papering.  I thought I'd "play up" the baby blue and accent it with artwork at one point.  Holy s...., it wasn't happening.  I gave up and just simply showered and well, ya' know, in the blue-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ness&lt;/span&gt;.   Eventually, I stopped looking at it and just did my "business".  But today?  Today I have OPTIONS!!!!!!  It's a new day, people.  And I'm thinking of tile, shower stalls, sinks, and yep, even toilets!!!!  Who knew a toilet would be so darn awesome (other than when you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;realllllly&lt;/span&gt; have to go).  So I leave you on this Mother's Day Eve with stars in my eyes and potties in my dreams.  Bye, bye &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' blue.  I'm heading for better things now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-8772198927926686916?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/8772198927926686916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=8772198927926686916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8772198927926686916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8772198927926686916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/05/potty-like-rockstar.html' title='Potty like a rockstar.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3952051377263740920</id><published>2009-05-07T15:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T15:35:20.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gray matter gone.</title><content type='html'>I lost a few more brain cells today.  Why?  Because I spent some time at Chuck E. Cheese.  Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against "The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ratt&lt;/span&gt;" as we call it in our circle.  But, I feel as though every time I sit in those booths and listen to the deafening buzzing all around me that my head is going to just pop right off like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pez&lt;/span&gt; dispenser.  Today I literally could see tiny portions of my brain left on the table as I packed up my gear to go home.  That's how horribly sapped I feel whenever I go to Chuck E. Cheese.  Sorry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Chuckie&lt;/span&gt;.  No hard feelings.  Keep sending me coupons, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3952051377263740920?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3952051377263740920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3952051377263740920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3952051377263740920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3952051377263740920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/05/gray-matter-gone.html' title='Gray matter gone.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-7054447364959923595</id><published>2009-05-06T11:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T11:09:07.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ew.</title><content type='html'>I've been very short tempered lately. Yesterday was the worst. Anyone who was with me for any amount of time yesterday KNOWS the deal (sorry girls). I was a stressed out maniac. And Chris (my brother) heard a full-on rant and rave on the phone. Sorry about that Chris. I think I just &lt;em&gt;think &lt;/em&gt;about things too darn much. Note to self: think less...think less...think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lessssssss&lt;/span&gt;. Sounds moronic, I know, but seriously, I tie myself up in knots reviewing detail after detail in my brain. Classic case of Virgo-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;itis&lt;/span&gt;. So, I'm going to let stuff go and continue to just be. But before I..am...here's what has me agitated today (if I may):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. the rain (again)&lt;br /&gt;2. the stupid swine flu and the fact that I have to be concerned about it as I get ready to travel abroad&lt;br /&gt;3. commercial holidays and the ridiculous pressure they put on me to become a juggling act&lt;br /&gt;4. the rain&lt;br /&gt;5. my office area - it's such a mess that it's making my blood pressure rise and my heart palpitate. It will be clean by the end of today if I'm up at 11:59 pm completing the task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it from 3's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Companyville&lt;/span&gt;. Sorry to be such a downer, but, it just goes with the weather.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-7054447364959923595?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/7054447364959923595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=7054447364959923595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7054447364959923595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/7054447364959923595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/05/ew.html' title='Ew.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-8431622525830410427</id><published>2009-05-01T07:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T07:50:19.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We were on vacation?  What vacation?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn&lt;/span&gt;.  Back...from...."&lt;em&gt;vacation&lt;/em&gt;".  And, yes, I did say vacation very hesitantly.  Why?  Because we were in Disney.  And Disney DOES NOT equal vacation when you're over eighteen.  When you have exceeded your teenage years the equation becomes very, very different.  It goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disney = plane trip with toddler + 10 lbs. of electronic games to keep toddler busy during plane trip + long lines in airport with cranky toddler who just &lt;em&gt;wants to see Mickey + &lt;/em&gt;rushing to catch shuttle buses to hotel + long lines to check into hotel room + soothing a toddler who still just &lt;em&gt;wants to see Mickey + &lt;/em&gt;rushing to catch another shuttle to get to park in same clothes you've been wearing since 4 a.m. because there's no time to change + long lines to have your 20 lb. backpack (that you've expertly jammed 35 lbs. of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;necessities&lt;/span&gt; into JUST RIGHT) be ripped apart by security as you enter the park while your toddler jumps up and down because he sees pictures of Mickey who he just &lt;em&gt;wants to see&lt;/em&gt; in person + walking for 8 more hours through the park to stand in lines to get on rides that bring you just to the point of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;vomitus&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;maximus&lt;/span&gt; + dining on chicken fingers and french fries that your toddler thinks is gourmet and you think is going to send you straight to your primary care doc for some heavy doses of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Lipitor&lt;/span&gt; + carrying a camera and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;video camera&lt;/span&gt; around every single moment of every single day because all of this mayhem and madness ultimately and eventually &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;alllll&lt;/span&gt; equals one very fine result.....the absolute time of our lives.  Thanks Disney.  You made Zeke's 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday pretty awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-8431622525830410427?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/8431622525830410427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=8431622525830410427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8431622525830410427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8431622525830410427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-were-on-vacation-what-vacation.html' title='We were on vacation?  What vacation?'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1938221084278690010</id><published>2009-04-21T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T14:14:12.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't....think....straight.</title><content type='html'>I'm finding that the more I have to do, the less I'm getting done.  Not good.  Focus, Nancy, focus.  I think I used to be really good at juggling a thousand things at once.  Not so much anymore for some reason.  I think it's the fact that every 5 to 7 minutes someone calls out "Mommy!" and I'm supposed to react.  It tends to break one's train of thought.  Where was I..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1938221084278690010?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1938221084278690010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1938221084278690010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1938221084278690010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1938221084278690010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/04/cantthinkstraight.html' title='Can&apos;t....think....straight.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-4542448055392889147</id><published>2009-04-19T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T18:27:15.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta run, gotta work.</title><content type='html'>This weekend has been nice.  The three of us spent time in the yard on Saturday since it was such gorgeous weather and we planted some pretty flowers.  Pauly decided to work on "the hole" (ugh...it's a project he's been OBSESSED with for the past 18 months, no lie.  It was a sinkhole that started smallish, then grew to be about 3 feet deep and about 5 feet wide.  Apparently years ago when our house was built, the ground wasn't packed firmly enough.  But I digress...)  So, as Pauly continued to fill "the hole", Zeke and I enjoyed the sun, played with the pups, and put in some nice new Marigolds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday we took a trip to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Longwood&lt;/span&gt; Gardens to take part in the kite flying festival.  Zeke made a kite in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Longwood&lt;/span&gt; tent, then flew it on their beautiful grounds.  It was fun to see him running through the field with about 5,000 other kids trying to get their kites up into the air too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I return home and realize that, yep, a mountain of laundry still awaits me.  It haunts me.  It's always there no matter how far I run.  So, I loaded up both the washer and dryer this evening and I'm making a go at it.  I sorta' HAVE to since we're leaving for our first of 3 summer trips at the end of this week.  I need clean clothes to pack!  I have a feeling this week is going to be all work, no play...but come this weekend...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt;!  We're off to see Mickey!  Maybe I'll blog live and in person while I'm in Mickey's hood, but I kind of doubt it.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;foresee&lt;/span&gt; tons of running around, sunscreen re-application, and exhaustion...in a major way.  But hey, your kid only turns 4 once, right???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to a productive week...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-4542448055392889147?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/4542448055392889147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=4542448055392889147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4542448055392889147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4542448055392889147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/04/gotta-run-gotta-work.html' title='Gotta run, gotta work.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-8427912208773430120</id><published>2009-04-17T15:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T15:38:02.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eleven, Baby!!!!</title><content type='html'>Today I've been married for 11 years.  To be honest, way back when, I never even thought I could BE married.  Couldn't fathom the idea.  Life was fun being on my own, having a career, a condo, and a cool car.  Then I saw Pauly in a library.  I asked my friend who he was, told my friend to introduce me, and the rest is history.  Funny how 11 years later everything is so different.  I now have a much different, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ummm&lt;/span&gt;, "career" (a.k.a.: trying to grow a boy into a man), a house that always cries out for attention, and an SUV instead of a convertible.   Add to the mix various and sundry pets and well, the brew I've got on my "life stove" is bubbling over at times.  But ya' know what?  Amidst all the skinned knees, bumped heads, barking, chirping, stain removal, 30-minute-meals, preschool woes, butt-wiping (yeah, Zeke still hasn't gotten it down..), grocery shopping, storybook reading, handwriting lessons, manner reminders, and most of all, kisses/hugs/"I Love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;You's&lt;/span&gt;"....I've learned that life is so much more than a universe centered around me.  I'm a small part of a big thing here.  And what I've got to do is tread gently, love unconditionally, stay humble, and trust God.  Mostly, I need to give my son the tools to do the same.  And today, more than most days, I'm happy I'm doing all of that with Pauly by my side.  Happy anniversary Pauly.  I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-8427912208773430120?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/8427912208773430120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=8427912208773430120' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8427912208773430120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8427912208773430120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/04/eleven-baby.html' title='Eleven, Baby!!!!'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1740717534518642144</id><published>2009-04-10T20:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T11:25:58.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Egg Dyeing at it's Finest</title><content type='html'>Today was one of those days that you're just plain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' happy you have certain people in your life. I love these types of days. And here's why: I took Zeke up to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Doylestown&lt;/span&gt; with me to my old college roommate's house so we could dye Easter eggs together. Now, not in a million years, would Eileen and I have EVER &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; 20 years ago that we'd be dying Easter eggs together with our sons on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt; evening...I think we probably would have thought our Friday evenings would have consisted of a bit more adult entertainment. But, alas, Big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ei&lt;/span&gt; and I have definitely lost some of the "wow factor" from our weekends now that the big night out is to dye Easter eggs with the kiddos. No biggie, we did really have fun catching up, letting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; kids play, and simply just chatting about life in general. One thing I've learned about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Big&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ei&lt;/span&gt;...no matter how much time passes since the last time I've seen her, I feel like I can mesh right on in with our friendship &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;wherever&lt;/span&gt; we left off. That, I believe, is the true test of a lifetime friendship. So, sorry to tell ya' Big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Ei&lt;/span&gt;....you're stuck with me forever girlie! I had too much fun seeing you and your crew today and Zeke is already telling me he'll "try harder to be good" the next time (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;/span&gt;!!!!!). So, thanks for the fun, for the company, and for the fab egg dyeing. Even tho Sophie's eggs kinda' blew ours outta' the water, I think the boys' all looked pretty darned good. I think we should make this a new tradition - eggs at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ei's&lt;/span&gt; every year!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as we end this day, we have gorgeous gem colored hard boiled eggs ready to fill Zeke's Easter basket &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;that'll&lt;/span&gt; be waiting for the Easter Bunny &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;tommorrow&lt;/span&gt; night! We're getting pretty excited! Here's hoping everyone gets a visit from the Big Bunny!!! Good Luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1740717534518642144?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1740717534518642144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1740717534518642144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1740717534518642144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1740717534518642144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/04/egg-dyeing-at-its-finest.html' title='Egg Dyeing at it&apos;s Finest'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1284196772937188677</id><published>2009-04-09T14:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T14:56:48.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No hunting allowed.</title><content type='html'>Easter egg hunts are terrifying.  And I'm not alone in my horror.  As we were standing along the perimeter of what looked like a sea full of gems (it was actually a huge lawn full of plastic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt; eggs), my heart was racing.  The countdown was about to begin and Zeke was ready to run and gather all the eggs he could in about 10 seconds flat.  Now, why, tell me, would I be nervous at an Easter egg hunt???  I kept asking myself that and silently telling myself how ridiculous I was for feeling anxious about what was about to commence.  UNTIL....one of the moms to my left spoke up.  It was like we were at at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;EEHA&lt;/span&gt; Meeting - Easter Egg Hunters Anonymous if you aren't catching my drift.  She did it.  She spoke of her husband's childhood trauma and lifted the cloud of darkness that I think all of us were secretly carrying for so long.  Apparently, when her hubby was a child at an Easter egg hunt he was terrorized.  He waited through the countdown, ran out onto that huge egg-covered field, swiftly gathered the coveted eggs in his basket as fast as his tiny hands could grab them, when suddenly the unthinkable happened....his basket tipped and all of his eggs flew out.  Someone swooped in, took all of his eggs and he was left with nothing.  This woman said that to this very day, her husband HATES Easter egg hunts and funny enough, he was quite obviously absent from the day's events.  She said he has nightmares about losing his eggs and repeatedly trying to get them all back into his basket.  CAN YOU IMAGINE????  This is what I say:  Easter egg hunts are too stressful.  It's too much build up for too short of an event.  It's far worse than, say, a wedding.  At least a wedding lasts a few &lt;em&gt;hours&lt;/em&gt;! But to get all psyched up for something that lasts 10 seconds????  I don't see the point.  That's just not funny, bunny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1284196772937188677?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1284196772937188677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1284196772937188677' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1284196772937188677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1284196772937188677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/04/no-hunting-allowed.html' title='No hunting allowed.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1108453869809510155</id><published>2009-04-04T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T18:47:12.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And how was your day?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a crazy day.  I saw rainbows and 6 foot tall hot dogs in drive &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;thrus&lt;/span&gt;.  I attempted to do laundry, failed, and decided that baking (burning) a batch of Pauly's favorite brownies would be a better option.  I attended a school book fair, shopped in a dollar store for all things Sponge Bob, bought live clams against my better judgment, and decided I was going to really try to let my nails grow longer.  I finalized our Disney World trip and researched a trip to Arizona, I paid bills online and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Facebooked&lt;/span&gt; a bit.  I downloaded pictures of Zeke and his friends and spent the next 10 minutes crying as I studied his baby pictures on my computer - boy, how time flies when you have a child.  I thought about getting a spray tan but none of my friends would go with me (and for some reason, I just won't go alone) and I made plans with Eileen to dye Easter eggs next Friday.  I counted down the minutes until Pauly came home from his business trip and I played &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Zingo&lt;/span&gt; about 3 or 4 times with Zeke.  I learned that you can play &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Zingo&lt;/span&gt; with a 3 year old and look fully engaged while simultaneously daydream about what kind of car you want to get next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who said life as a stay at home mom was boring?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1108453869809510155?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1108453869809510155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1108453869809510155' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1108453869809510155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1108453869809510155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-how-was-your-day.html' title='And how was your day?'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-4986590852067507692</id><published>2009-04-03T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T07:36:23.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>F-f-f-fooolin.</title><content type='html'>I like April Fool's Day.  For one, it's my mom's birthday.  What a cool birthday, don't you think?  Not to mention, she's a bit on the funny/foolish side, so it fits her personality (no offense, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;momsy&lt;/span&gt; - you know you're goofy...).  And April Fool's Day is a great day to pull out my hidden acting abilities on Pauly.  Last year, I played the old "I lost The King (Otto the chihuahua) and I've been searching the neighborhood for hours now...".  I had Pauly going for a good five minutes until The King barked in the background and Pauly hung up on me.  It was great.  This year I wasn't prepared.  For mom's birthday or for a great prank.  I think having lost a lung in The Great Weekend Puking Incident put a damper on the awesomeness of the day.  So, instead, Zeke and I spent the day with friends, then headed down to my mom's for a quiet dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Mom!!!  You little April Fool!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-4986590852067507692?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/4986590852067507692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=4986590852067507692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4986590852067507692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4986590852067507692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/04/f-f-f-fooolin.html' title='F-f-f-fooolin.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-8934063607593247319</id><published>2009-03-31T17:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T17:15:15.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Down with the sickness.</title><content type='html'>Sick.  That's how it's been around here lately.  Just sick.  Like disgusting, rumbling, tumbling belly sick.  And it's been going on for too long.  First it was Zeke, then me.  I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;reallllllly&lt;/span&gt; hoping it's goes right past Pauly and out of this house for good.  Today's the first day I'm feeling like the real-deal Nancy again...with some minor adjustments.  For one:  I'm not real jazzed up about food yet.  I can only get down about 1/4 of my usual amounts of food (no comments from all you smart-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;a's&lt;/span&gt; out there.....), and I still feel some slight stomach terror once I do finally eat.  But honestly, anything is better than the weekend I just had.  Puking until dry heaving?  It puts a big damper on a weekend with a quickness.  But...that's in the past and today made me feel like all this HORRIBLE winter weather/sickness/boredom/madness has finally lifted.  What a great springy day it was and what a nice way Zeke and I spent it - with a bunch of friends at the park in the sunshine!  Here's to many more days like today!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-8934063607593247319?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/8934063607593247319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=8934063607593247319' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8934063607593247319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8934063607593247319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/03/down-with-sickness.html' title='Down with the sickness.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-4080476392550106852</id><published>2009-03-25T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T15:53:02.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Green around the gills.</title><content type='html'>It's day 6 of the stomach bug.  Zeke is improving - I'd say he's about 80% - but I swear the smell of vomit is permanently stuck in my nose.  In turn, it's making me feel nauseated.  I've been playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;head games&lt;/span&gt; with myself all week - do I feel sick?  Is my stomach feeling strange or is it just my imagination?  I just got off the treadmill and I feel like a truck ran me over.  I certainly don't feel the "exercise high" all those &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;whack&lt;/span&gt; job gym people speak of.  Just the opposite - I feel like I should have skipped that workout altogether.  So, here's my plan:  I'm going down to the basement to clean up some toys, scrub a spot on the carpet where I swear I can STILL smell puke, vacuum everything down there, then it's ME time.  I'm headed to bed to settle in and watch American Idol.  As for Pauly and Zeke:  they can join me or they can play &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; in the basement.  I just don't feel like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Wii'ing&lt;/span&gt; tonight...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-4080476392550106852?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/4080476392550106852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=4080476392550106852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4080476392550106852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4080476392550106852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/03/green-around-gills.html' title='Green around the gills.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-2661249060528714023</id><published>2009-03-22T16:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T16:58:40.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vomitus Maximus</title><content type='html'>"I want mac and cheese.  I want Chinese food.  I want noodles with butter sauce.  I'm really, really thirsty...may I have some more water?  No, make that orange Juicy Juice.  Or maybe Lemonade.  Now I want a bagel and cream cheese. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I've been hearing for the past 8 hours.  And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I give Zeke a tiny scoop of whatever he's craving...he pukes it up.  You see, he has this remarkable way of making it seem like he's on a fantastic rebound from the horrible stomach flu he's been dealing with since Friday.  One minute he's vomiting up a kidney, the next, he's ready for a pizza with extra cheese.  And each time, I admit it, I'm hoodwinked.  I think we've hit the end and the flu is gone.  But then he eats a bit...and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;kaaaabaaaam&lt;/span&gt; - up it comes.  And somehow the force with which it comes up makes it dreadfully hard for me to escape it's route.  Yep, I've been splattered with puke many times in the past 72 hours.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ew&lt;/span&gt;.  The smell is what gets me, I think.  I can deal with a lot - dog puke/poop/hairballs.  Kid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;doodie&lt;/span&gt;/vomit/dirt...but the &lt;em&gt;smell&lt;/em&gt; - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;, it &lt;em&gt;gets&lt;/em&gt; me.  It's rotten.  Like, &lt;em&gt;seriously rotten&lt;/em&gt;.  But how can it be??  That which is being puked only went down about 10 minutes prior.  It's an enigma.  Maybe when this stomach flu has left our home I'll take an advanced physiology course just to find out how Gatorade goes down into the belly, gets regurgitated 5 to 7 minutes later, only to smell like 3 week old milk that's been basking in the Arizona sun...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-2661249060528714023?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/2661249060528714023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=2661249060528714023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2661249060528714023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/2661249060528714023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/03/vomitus-maximus.html' title='Vomitus Maximus'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-4985912945119745224</id><published>2009-03-19T18:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T18:22:27.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rolling down the highway, veggies under my seat.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I try to stay ahead of stuff around here, I really do. And because of that, some things get pushed to the bottom of the priority list. Take for instance, my car. With the weather being so cold and with us all spending so much more time indoors lately, my car has had little to no attention paid to it. First of all, if I'm going to be in my house more, I want it clean. And secondly, if it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;supercold&lt;/span&gt; outside, I'm sure as heck not going to be out there freezing my fingers off trying to clean &lt;em&gt;the car&lt;/em&gt;. Sorry, it just doesn't rank up there. But yesterday, the car lucked out. The house was clean, laundry was, well, whatever...and it was nice out!!! I was suddenly motivated to finally clean out the dumpster I'd been driving. Here's what I found as I pried further into the pits of hell or, rather, Zeke's area:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315071536514726242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/ScLtZum_-WI/AAAAAAAAAos/4ph1eL6EDps/s200/3-20-09+012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Now, let's dissect this picture carefully.  I know, it's a bit tough to see what's going on here, but let me describe the madness.  What you're looking at is the underneath part of Zeke's seat.  And yes, that red card with the heart...that's a Valentine that never got opened because it was swallowed up by the abyss.  Sorry Anna - it was a really cute Valentine too.  Can you see the Nerds, the loose change, the lonely potato chip (sour cream &amp;amp; onion because that's all Zeke will eat), and most appealing...the pretzel salt mixed with hair????  Even better were the 4 petrified baby carrots that I found under MY seat that happened their way there.  I guess I'm no innocent in this story either.  One good thing:  I found a Nintendo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;DS&lt;/span&gt; game that Zeke has been searching for since January, one of my awesome MAC makeup brushes, a nice Burt's Bees &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lip balm&lt;/span&gt;, and about $23 in loose change.  Here's the bummer part of it all:  it's only about 26 hours post cleanup and I'd say if you were really, really hungry and had nothing at all to eat, you'd already be able to find a small meal lying in the dark corners of my car.  That's just how Zeke and I roll these days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-4985912945119745224?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/4985912945119745224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=4985912945119745224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4985912945119745224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4985912945119745224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/03/rolling-down-highway-veggies-under-my.html' title='Rolling down the highway, veggies under my seat.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/ScLtZum_-WI/AAAAAAAAAos/4ph1eL6EDps/s72-c/3-20-09+012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-8972184005862149146</id><published>2009-03-10T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T18:24:42.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange but true.  But why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SbcQg5e6pOI/AAAAAAAAAok/2ZzXM6KFnKI/s1600-h/DSCF0031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311732442879141090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SbcQg5e6pOI/AAAAAAAAAok/2ZzXM6KFnKI/s200/DSCF0031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so I know it's pretty difficult to see in this picture...but look very, very carefully.  Do you see the teeny tiny little chihuahua above?  Yep, I know he's stunning.  Aside from that, check out his paws.  I know, I know...there's nothing really too abnormal or super-duper about them.  They're just typical chi-chi paws.  Tiny and cute.  But here's the deal:  they're now referred to as taco bells in my house.  And, no, not Taco Bells but taco bells.  You see, they're not related to that disgusting taco chain...they're just &lt;em&gt;taco bells&lt;/em&gt;.  Chihuahua feet are taco bells for some reason.  At least according to Zeke.  And if I pry into this taco bell situation, Zeke gets very agitated.  Agitated as if I should know all about taco bells and it's a waste of his time to have to go over and over it with me.  Bizarre.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Add to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bizarro&lt;/span&gt; List:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-Zeke was waiting at the deli counter with me today and proceeded to sit on a bag of rolls that was on a shelf in front of the counter.  I immediately told him to get up before he squished the rolls.  He told me he couldn't because he was hatching the rolls.  ??????????&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-Another anatomical &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;anomaly&lt;/span&gt;:  when you point to the bridge of Zeke's nose and ask him what it is he'll tell you it's his roots.  Please don't ask me how this all happened.  I'm trying my hardest here, folks.  I really, really am.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-8972184005862149146?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/8972184005862149146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=8972184005862149146' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8972184005862149146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8972184005862149146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/03/strange-but-true-but-why.html' title='Strange but true.  But why?'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SbcQg5e6pOI/AAAAAAAAAok/2ZzXM6KFnKI/s72-c/DSCF0031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-4580716192158576084</id><published>2009-03-04T16:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T16:55:52.707-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seems like yesterday.</title><content type='html'>I've been nostalgic the past few days. I think it's because of all this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; junk. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; is crazy. It has connected me with friends I knew back when I was literally in first grade. And just a day ago, one of the nicest girls I hung around with all through grade school had her first baby. I found out via &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; and I was so happy to have gotten the information. Congratulations Kelly and Baby Tessa!!! But since then, I've been thinking about babies. Babies, babies, babies. And more babies. Now, I don't really want another baby, but I do sort of miss all the baby stuff. I miss packing a diaper bag. I used to LOVE packing my diaper bag for some reason. I'd pack and re-pack it every single night. I guess my love of bags extended to the diaper bag family. But yes, my diaper bag was prepared for any mishap Zeke could have brought my way. I think he and I could have survived a combo diaper blowout/nuclear attack with all of the goodies I carried with me each day. Preparedness was the name of my game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now, alas, my bag now is simple a purse, albeit a large one, and all I need as far as essentials is some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Purell&lt;/span&gt;, tissues, and Nintendo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;DS&lt;/span&gt;. A 3-1/2 year old doesn't require much as far as "essentials" go. My friends will tell you though, I still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;over pack&lt;/span&gt;. If you search my purse you'll also find a first aid kit, children's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;motrin&lt;/span&gt;, baby wipes, a toy motorcycle, and the emergency candy stash. What can I say, I still like to do the "diaper bag" thing...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, in the spirit of walking down memory lane, I searched my old pix and found this one of Pregnant Nancy. Now remember, I HATED being pregnant. I was a horrible pregnant girl and was miserable the whole time. I think this picture captured the one and only night I actually had a fun time being pregnant. So, thanks Penn Ladies! You guys rock. Do you guys remember this party??? Memories, huh???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309500458573166914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/Sa8iiUAG-UI/AAAAAAAAAoU/S-8c_9nUTNU/s200/2004_1221Image0010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-4580716192158576084?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/4580716192158576084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=4580716192158576084' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4580716192158576084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/4580716192158576084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/03/seems-like-yesterday.html' title='Seems like yesterday.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/Sa8iiUAG-UI/AAAAAAAAAoU/S-8c_9nUTNU/s72-c/2004_1221Image0010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1408348466655216450</id><published>2009-02-28T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T14:34:27.812-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Get the bird and run.</title><content type='html'>This week was Pet Week at Zeke's school. Oh my. Now we're talking. By now, Zeke's teacher knows I'm a "pet person" and has bonded with me over one or two furry friend stories. You see, she's a...gulp...HORSE OWNER!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;jfasdopbniopaertnjaop&lt;/span&gt;!!!!!! God knows I'm ready for a few tea parties at her house. So anyway, Teacher Michele had the SPCA visit Zeke's class this week with a few adoptable pets for the children to meet. In addition to the SPCA visit, Teacher Michele wanted the next best thing to visit the school - a representative from the Zeke Zoo. No problem I said. Would she like a furry or feathered friend I inquired. She chose a feathered friend, so yesterday I obliged. Wow was that a massacre. It started out easy enough. I transferred the new bird, Stuart, into a small cage and tucked him into my SUV. He wasn't quite sure where we were going, which I later found out was quite to his benefit. Upon arriving at the school, I signed into the visitor's log and headed down to Zeke's classroom. As I opened the preschool door, it got prehistoric. Tots came running from all corners of the room. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;snack time&lt;/span&gt; that they were enjoying was forgotten, yet still clinging to their dirty, sticky fingers as they poked and prodded at Stuart's little cage. (The worst part??? My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dooney&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; Bourke purse was getting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ALLLL&lt;/span&gt; kinds of nastiness on it from the greasy popcorn they were all eating! Not too cool, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt;' guys.) I tried to hold the cage above their reach, but the weight of 10 preschoolers was pulling me down into their makeshift &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;mosh pit&lt;/span&gt;. I felt myself starting to fall into them, when finally the teachers wrestled the mob to the ground. I gathered myself, straightened my hair and Stuart's feathers, checked the lipstick, and proceeded to circle time where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Stewie&lt;/span&gt; and I were the center of attention. After a brief speech about the care of tiny Stu, the class was supposed to line up one-by-one to come up and take a "close look" at Stuart. Then the Big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Fakeout&lt;/span&gt; happened. Yeah, they lined up. Yeah, they started to come up one by one. Then suddenly it turned ugly. It was an angry mob of preschoolers on Pop Rocks and Coca-Cola. They hit, they shoved, and I actually saw one little girl reach for the EYES of another little boy. She literally wanted to claw his eyes out - and in a Quaker School!!!! All for the love of Stuart. It was then that I realized I had to grab my bird, my bag and go...and not necessarily in that order if you know how much I treasure my purses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as Pet Week comes to an end and I look back upon the beauty of the lessons taught to my son this week, I reflect upon what I've taken away from it all: when facing a classroom of preschoolers, wear protective gear and carry an old purse. Oh, and also, if you are lonely and can provide a loving home, don't forget to check out your local shelter - there's tons of love waiting to be adopted. That's how we found this special guy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307978684221356418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/Sam6fYxb-YI/AAAAAAAAAn8/BrIvKTJclKo/s200/Simon2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1408348466655216450?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1408348466655216450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1408348466655216450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1408348466655216450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1408348466655216450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/02/get-bird-and-run.html' title='Get the bird and run.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/Sam6fYxb-YI/AAAAAAAAAn8/BrIvKTJclKo/s72-c/Simon2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-3549175579620282455</id><published>2009-02-26T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T18:56:56.978-08:00</updated><title type='text'>But I can't help falling in love with yooouuuuu.</title><content type='html'>I'm a sucker. A real sucker. I fall in love so easily. And I'm always the one who does all the work in these type of relationships. Take today for instance. I just ran into the store to pick up a few things. And there HE was. He was very handsome. Just sitting there with his friends, a little on the shy side, but confident nonetheless. I go for the strong but silent type, I guess you could say. I kept to myself for a while, pretending to shop, looking down the aisles, then peeking back up at him every now and then. Every time I looked up, our eyes met. I blushed, but he just cackled a bit under his breath...he knew he had me. He knew he'd be sleeping under my roof tonight. So, low and behold, here he is folks, the newest man in my life. Let me introduce the extremely handsome, smart, and pretty damn sexy....Stuart Kane:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307304570217878162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SadVYyak0pI/AAAAAAAAAn0/GhFbiJRMwNM/s200/bird_2171.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Welcome to the Kane Zoo, Stuart. You'll be happy with all of our furry and feathered friends. You sexy man, you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wonder if Pauly knows yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-3549175579620282455?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/3549175579620282455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=3549175579620282455' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3549175579620282455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/3549175579620282455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/02/but-i-cant-help-falling-in-love-with.html' title='But I can&apos;t help falling in love with yooouuuuu.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SadVYyak0pI/AAAAAAAAAn0/GhFbiJRMwNM/s72-c/bird_2171.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-714824281606854732</id><published>2009-02-19T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T13:36:05.053-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something happened along the way.</title><content type='html'>Strange things come out of Zeke's mouth.  I'm always amazed at how inappropriate and how downright untimely they are too.  Take for instance:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Craigslisted&lt;/span&gt; his toddler bed a few weeks ago.  Finally, someone wanted to buy it and they stopped in this past weekend to check it out.  I was really hoping they'd take it since it's been sitting in my spare bedroom for what seems like an eternity.  Just as they were getting ready to hand over the pesos, Zeke chimes in with "I think you're getting this for really cheap...you should buy it."   Now, I've got to hand it to him, his sales tactics were pretty suave, but I just didn't need a 3-year-old getting in the middle of my sale at that point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Again, I had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; deal happening with my old living room furniture.  The potential buyers were supposed to have been at my house at 4:30 last Friday evening.  Well, as it turns out, they didn't show up until 7:20.  I was very, very annoyed because much of my Friday night was tied up waiting to get rid of furniture that I was about 8 years &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WAYYYY&lt;/span&gt; over tired of.  I just wanted it out of my sight.  As the buyers were hauling out the furniture, Zeke proceeded to say "why were you so late?  My mommy was very annoyed that you kept us waiting so long."  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ummmm&lt;/span&gt;...couldn't he have waited until the cash had traded hands??? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, here's a strange one.  Zeke and I were having a catch with a tennis ball.  The ball missed his hands and hit the top of his foot.  He said to me "ouch, you need to watch out.  You hurt my taco bells."  I asked him what a taco bell was and he pointed to the tops of his feet.  ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  And finally, to top it all off and to solidify the fact that I'm raising a caveman...he just walked in as I'm typing and asked me if he could pee in the office garbage can.  I'm really just treading water here folks...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-714824281606854732?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/714824281606854732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=714824281606854732' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/714824281606854732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/714824281606854732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/02/something-happened-along-way.html' title='Something happened along the way.'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-1851398705951380896</id><published>2009-02-15T19:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T20:17:42.137-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lovin' Valentine's Day...</title><content type='html'>Valentine's Day 2009. I'm a sucker for Valentine's Day, I admit it. Maybe because I have an awesome hubby who always remembers the necessities to make it a perfect day. First of all, I like to celebrate V-Day over about 2 to 4 days - not just one. Which makes it perfect that for 3 days in a row, Pauly brought me home surprises! First, he surprised me with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; Fit, which I've wanted for a few months now. I'm so excited to have it, but Zeke is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;monopolizing&lt;/span&gt; it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Whatevs&lt;/span&gt;. Next, go figure, Pauly brought home some awesomely decadent chocolates! Thank God for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; Fit. Then, while I was out with Zeke on Friday, Pauly dropped these at home:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303237658428411234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SZjijXYZjWI/AAAAAAAAAnc/aYjj0RoLsKA/s200/v-day+09+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;To top it all off, on Saturday, we had Brynne (our babysitter) come over at 5 and hold down the fort while we took off for downtown Media.  We browsed some of the boutique shops then had a wonderful dinner at a great little place called Picasso.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have the best husband ever.  I'm a lucky girl.  Thanks for a great Valentine's Day Pauly.  Yet again.  XOXOXOXOXOXO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6751785646593159667-1851398705951380896?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/1851398705951380896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=1851398705951380896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1851398705951380896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/1851398705951380896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/02/lovin-valentines-day.html' title='Lovin&apos; Valentine&apos;s Day...'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SZjijXYZjWI/AAAAAAAAAnc/aYjj0RoLsKA/s72-c/v-day+09+003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751785646593159667.post-8161628492108219965</id><published>2009-02-15T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T19:37:59.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Game</title><content type='html'>I can't believe my last post was so long ago. My blog is pretty important to me since it's become one of my main avenues for tracking my life with Zeke.  So what's been up with us?  Nothing much except...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lately Zeke has been a handful. And not a fun one. He's testing me, testing my authority, and pushing the boundaries every chance he finds. For one, he likes to wear his winter gloves in the house and pretend they're boxing gloves. This doesn't amuse me. It mostly doesn't amuse me when the winter gloves go on and he starts boxing me while I'm trying to cook dinner, type on my blog, talk on the phone, or simply live my life. Another time the gloves bother me:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303230503338275570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SZjcC4l-cvI/AAAAAAAAAnE/5TBkJe8j4Zc/s200/2-12-09+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303230566853067490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SZjcGlNFQuI/AAAAAAAAAnM/ddmwq-RM8X4/s200/2-12-09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;He enjoys eating with his gloves on.  And his Incredible Hulk hat on.  And apparently not much else.  I swear, this kid DOES have clothes.  Lots of them.  In fact, it's tough to get his dresser drawers shut sometimes when I'm all caught up on the laundry.  But, Zeke likes to accessorize his birthday suit most times.  And I've learned something in the 3-plus years that I've known him:  don't sweat the small stuff.  Unless it's going to inflict severe bodily injury (and it must be &lt;em&gt;really severe&lt;/em&gt;, as in: severed limb, concussion, loss of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;consciousness&lt;/span&gt;, or involving the loss of many pints of blood...you get my drift), I will not argue with The Toddler.  Here's how it goes in my world with The Toddler:  "oh, you don't want to put on your winter coat even though it's -36 degrees out with gusty winds, hail, and drifting snow?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, when you get cold, I'll have it waiting."  It's just not worth the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;argument&lt;/span&gt;.  And for him, my lack of reaction takes all the fun out of the game.  So, he wears the hat and gloves at meal times.  And he actually gets cold sometimes when he tries to push my buttons and refuses the coat.  All in all, he's still healthy and growing and thriving.  It's me I'm not so sure about sometimes...&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/6751785646593159667-8161628492108219965?l=kanedays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/feeds/8161628492108219965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751785646593159667&amp;postID=8161628492108219965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8161628492108219965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751785646593159667/posts/default/8161628492108219965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kanedays.blogspot.com/2009/02/game.html' title='The Game'/><author><name>Nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12937452166399970091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SI4loANRxMI/AAAAAAAAALg/yPHf-EltOqs/S220/chihuahua_rev_poster.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4QiK6uZtSkE/SZjcC4l-cvI/AAAAAAAAAnE/5TBkJe8j4Zc/s72-c/2-12-09+003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
