<?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-2424058354011758829</id><updated>2012-02-16T12:16:14.432-08:00</updated><category term='cosleeping'/><title type='text'>Its MY Small World</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-9177942180299248451</id><published>2010-09-17T14:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T14:42:19.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Letter to my Dad</title><content type='html'>Dear Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So its been 2 years.&amp;nbsp; Feels like an eternity.&amp;nbsp; I need you more right now than ever.&amp;nbsp; and I know you need me to be better. I try every day to find a way to let go.&amp;nbsp; I hate Cancer. I hate that it killed you.&amp;nbsp; I hate that it took you away from my kids. I hate that it took you away from Mike. We all miss you so much.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to not live with regrets, and the only thing I can think is to appologize for them.&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry that I drove fast as a teenager. I am sorry I didn't believe you about leopards not changing their spots (Boys).&amp;nbsp; I am sorry that I stayed out late and made you worry.&amp;nbsp; I am sorry I quit golf. I am sorry I ran your Honda into the garage. I am sorry that I got rid of Neeko.&amp;nbsp; I am sorry that I moved away from you.&amp;nbsp; I am sorry I didn't drive to Boise and make you go to different doctors sooner.&amp;nbsp; I am sorry I couldn't be with you those last days.&amp;nbsp; I am sorry I wouldn't say it was ok to let go.&amp;nbsp; I am sorry you never got to see Tristan. I am sorry that I haven't been the strong woman that you raised me to be during this.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was strong because you were by my side every step, every moment of my life. The constant void next to me never goes un noticed.&amp;nbsp; I try to let Mike fill that void. but its not the same.&amp;nbsp; You were the one, that at every bump in the road that said "F%#K EM"&amp;nbsp; For some reason that always made everything better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go home.&amp;nbsp; I feel you want to go home too. We were better there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I heard a mother say to her 5 year old son, "I love you more than you'll ever know"&lt;br /&gt;It made me step back and think how true that statement is.. When you are a child you have NO IDEA how much your parents really loved you.&amp;nbsp; I know now how much you loved me. I hope you know how much I loved you.&amp;nbsp; Its more than you'll ever know.&amp;nbsp; I miss you so much. I want you back. You were my best friend. A great father, and a great man.&amp;nbsp; No one will ever know what you meant to me. I love you Dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-9177942180299248451?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/9177942180299248451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=9177942180299248451' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/9177942180299248451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/9177942180299248451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/letter-to-my-dad.html' title='A Letter to my Dad'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-2346168380002969049</id><published>2010-08-25T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T12:38:53.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anxiously Awaiting</title><content type='html'>Just a small post- I have one and a half days left till a 12 day vacation and I CAN NOT WAIT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mainly because on Sunday we are taking the kids to a secluded cabin at Wallowa Lake for 4 days.&amp;nbsp; No family, no tv, no BODY but us.&amp;nbsp; We've never done this.&amp;nbsp; Its always been chaos visiting family and such.&amp;nbsp; This will be the first "just my family moment" with very little distraction!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can not wait......... It sounds like pure bliss.&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/2424058354011758829-2346168380002969049?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2346168380002969049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=2346168380002969049' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/2346168380002969049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/2346168380002969049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2010/08/anxiously-awaiting.html' title='Anxiously Awaiting'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-7486938639171513650</id><published>2010-08-21T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T19:55:20.966-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cosleeping'/><title type='text'>Goldilocks said Someone's Been Sleeping in My Bed!</title><content type='html'>Oy!&amp;nbsp; that's right.&amp;nbsp; A bear. A big Bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So 22 months we made it with no real co-sleeping to speak of.&amp;nbsp; (only because it took us about 4 years to get Delaney OUT of our bed)&amp;nbsp; Of course Tristan slept a few hours here and there when he was an infant. But pretty much since 6 months old he's been in his own bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the last few weeks, he keeps "popping up" next to me.&amp;nbsp; 4,5,6 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night he came in at 3:00.&amp;nbsp; He gets out of bed, tip toes down the hall, binky and woobie in tow.&amp;nbsp; Climbs the stairs into our bed, pulls back the sheets and snuggles up next to us.&amp;nbsp; I laid there thinking, how did we end up here.&amp;nbsp; all the sudden every night its a little more time he's in bed with us.&amp;nbsp; I can't really say I didn't enjoy my little boy snuggling for 3 hours till he finally fell back hard asleep and scooted over by daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess one day he'll be too big and won't want to snuggle with mama anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/THCQRDhebII/AAAAAAAAABo/g1dVaye3p4M/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/THCQRDhebII/AAAAAAAAABo/g1dVaye3p4M/s320/photo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-7486938639171513650?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7486938639171513650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=7486938639171513650' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/7486938639171513650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/7486938639171513650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2010/08/goldilocks-said-someones-been-sleeping.html' title='Goldilocks said Someone&apos;s Been Sleeping in My Bed!'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/THCQRDhebII/AAAAAAAAABo/g1dVaye3p4M/s72-c/photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-4410878614996713736</id><published>2010-08-10T14:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T15:10:53.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bittersweet Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;So. I've been gone awhile. I'm back.  I need my outlet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;8 years ago today was the best day of my life.  It was Perfect. I had over 200 friends and family watch me marry the man of my dream.   Wow! When I look back what a ride!   I can't believe it's been 8 years.  The life changes we've been through have just been amazing.  Most so happy and profound, and some gut-wrenching.  But we've made it through.  We've had 2 of the most beautiful children on the face of the planet and I couldn't ask for anymore in my dream for a family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm177/neekoshouse/Wedding/cheekkiss1-Sepia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 224px;" src="http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm177/neekoshouse/Wedding/cheekkiss1-Sepia.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm177/neekoshouse/Wedding/ms1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 165px; height: 244px;" src="http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm177/neekoshouse/Wedding/ms1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Today I am trying my hardest to be joyfull for the meaning of the day! I am married to a wonderful man and father.  Yet, like every other special occasion I can't help but notice who's missing.  8 years ago today was the day that I stood between the 2 men in my life, the day I went from my Daddy's little girl and became Mike's wife.  8 years ago was the last time I danced with my father.   I remember it like it was yesterday.  Beautiful, simple, carefree, and a huge world ahead of us.  I've gone back and watched the video, to hear not only his advise to us, but just to hear his voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/TGHJZKLrKQI/AAAAAAAAABg/SROCfG2Z03w/s1600/Dads_little_girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 160px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/TGHJZKLrKQI/AAAAAAAAABg/SROCfG2Z03w/s200/Dads_little_girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503901653690689794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm177/neekoshouse/Wedding/dadsyddance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 156px; height: 241px;" src="http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm177/neekoshouse/Wedding/dadsyddance.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;The last 2 years have been the hardest.  It was all cake walk before then.   We all know that my dad passed away almost 2 years ago, and it seems everything has been downhill since then.   Our friends and family try to encourage us that things will get better, and I know they will, we just don't know when.  As Mike pursues job opportunities it will be interesting to see what direction life sends us in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;We keep hearing the quote "God leads you to it and He'll lead you through it"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;This struck home yesterday as I got a text from Mike that said "Come on God, you can do it"  That litterally brought tears to my eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;I try to tell myself the roads ahead are open.  I went to visit my dad today in his "niche in the wall".  Tried to get guidance on what path to take.  I had my moment and now I will move on withe the rest of my day.  Upon returning to my office, my awesome husband and adorable kids were there waiting for me with a huge bouquet of flowers.  :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;I am blessed beyond belief by my husband and my children.  Its time to start a new chapter.  Look out world right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-4410878614996713736?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4410878614996713736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=4410878614996713736' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/4410878614996713736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/4410878614996713736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2010/08/bittersweet-day.html' title='Bittersweet Day'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm177/neekoshouse/Wedding/th_cheekkiss1-Sepia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-7347748117383610262</id><published>2009-06-25T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T20:52:05.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WOW Time Flies</title><content type='html'>Is it possible for life to pass you by.  Why can't we tell ourselves, you're never gonna get this moment back.  I feel somewhat robbed of the last year of my life, of my kids' lives, robbed of the Dad that I need so desperately&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tristan will be 8 months old next week. What??? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad's birthday was a few weeks ago, quite possible one of the hardest days of my life.  Not sure why... just wasn't prepared for what it was going to feel like hearing the date, June 15th,  all day long, constantly grabbing the phone to call and wish him a happy birthday, only to hear "the number you are calling has been disconnected or is no longer in service..." &lt;br /&gt;We went to the cemetary and took him fresh cut roses from our garden.  We had to run from the sprinklers, it was just me and the kids.  Delaney layed the roses by his name and we sang happy birthday, with a lump in the throat.  D and I both teared... when we dodged the sprinklers to get back to car the, my precious little girl lifted her hand to her face and yelled back toward the memory wall "POPPY I MISS YOU"  Talk about heartbreaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other holidays were not as hard.  We had little T to fuss over and keeping us up at night that it seemed alot easier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I feel defeated.  I feel like a failure. This being in charge of his matters and estate is exhausting.  I need to it be OVER!!!  I can't take it anymore.  I am losing my mind, and missing out on my family.  Something has got to give!!  I have turned my own life into absolute shambles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so blessed at the same time that I have such wonderful family on Mike's side that totally accept me as their own. But no one will replace him.  I miss him so much.  I hate that he was taken from me and Mike and my kids.  My brother and sister, and me, we need him more than ever.  I know God has a plan and that everything happens for a reason, but really, what was the reason.... I am still waiting for that to be clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just had a lot to get off my chest I guess. Feeling empty. I miss you Dad and love you more than life itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-7347748117383610262?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7347748117383610262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=7347748117383610262' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/7347748117383610262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/7347748117383610262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2009/06/wow-time-flies.html' title='WOW Time Flies'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-5360035290150057815</id><published>2009-01-15T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T16:28:33.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I really want to win...</title><content type='html'>Th&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;e lottery.  My life would be PERFECT if I didn't have debt and bills!  I have the best Husband, best kids ever, and a perfect-for-me house, perfect-for-me car, perfect job, perfect little life... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;But theres this whole other side I hate called "Reality of being an adult" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I remember my parents talking about this.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;You guessed it, today was payday...and that was shortlived, I watched in walk in- and walk RIGHT back out of my checkbook!  Booo!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I don't want to be a millionaire by any means, just want enough to pay the debts I have and work just for entertainment and to do fun things with my kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I guess I will just keep buying tickets and praying... pathetic I know.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-5360035290150057815?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5360035290150057815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=5360035290150057815' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/5360035290150057815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/5360035290150057815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-really-want-to-win.html' title='I really want to win...'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-764090410447912863</id><published>2009-01-08T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T14:43:52.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember that minute</title><content type='html'>That I spoke of in my first post...I really need it today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one more minute with my Dad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am having a hard time with it all.  I've been sitting here at my desk in tears several times, trying to keep from choking.  No idea why, nothing in particular has happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just miss him, terribly....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think maybe its finally hitting me that he's actually gone, and never coming back.  the juvenile side of me has firmly believed one day he would just appear and this was all a really bad dream....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-764090410447912863?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/764090410447912863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=764090410447912863' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/764090410447912863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/764090410447912863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2009/01/remember-that-minute.html' title='Remember that minute'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-117343344282017378</id><published>2009-01-08T10:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T10:57:01.901-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why can't my brain be a memory stick..</title><content type='html'>While I think I have a really great memory, its the most important things in life I can't seem to pull out of mothballs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night at 1:32 am I was feeding Tristan laying in bed.  He is the sweetest baby ever, and had his little hands linked, as if he was praying and was just nursing away... While I normally am begging to go back to sleep, I just layed there staring at his precious face and those little hands... I just started praying myself... "God please let me remember this moment forever"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not one of those moments you have a camera near by, ya know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure I had a million moments like that with Delaney and I just can't seem to remember how it all felt and looked.  I would give anything to have those memories back, and now I am afraid I won't remember how Tristan looks, feels, and smells.  It is not only bittersweet, but somewhat heartbreaking...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-117343344282017378?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/117343344282017378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=117343344282017378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/117343344282017378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/117343344282017378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-cant-my-brain-be-memory-stick.html' title='Why can&apos;t my brain be a memory stick..'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-89997876823423859</id><published>2008-12-12T13:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T13:47:00.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The 3 year old who wants everything..where to draw the line</title><content type='html'>I am at a loss today as to where to draw the line on Christmas gifts for Delaney.  This is the first year that she has really been able to say what she wants and gets really heartfelt about it.  Of course, everything she sees, she wants. And she gets that little sparkle in her eyes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've already bought her more than I had intended on.  I had a Santa gift for her and then we went and saw Santa and she asked for something totally different, and that was alot more than I wanted to spend, but what did I do the next day... Of course, like any mother, I arranged for Santa to bring her the John Deer Scooter she asked for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some odd reason, while part of my brain tells me kids shouldn't get everything they ask for, what happens in their little minds when they don't get it?  Are they dissapointed on Christmas morning?  I feel compelled to never have her want for anything, I never did as a child, I am pretty sure I got everything I ever asked for and more, however, my parents were alot "better off" than I am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she asked me pretty please for the Santa and reindeer lawn blow up teeter totter...It was $99.  She went on for 20 minutes how she just really wanted it.  I have had a lump in the pit of my stomach all day because I can not afford to buy it for her..Why though, I don't EVER want a stupid lawn blow up!  UGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to figure something out before next year...this girls gonna kill me finacially!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-89997876823423859?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/89997876823423859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=89997876823423859' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/89997876823423859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/89997876823423859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2008/12/3-year-old-who-wants-everythingwhere-to.html' title='The 3 year old who wants everything..where to draw the line'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-2676146456587134405</id><published>2008-11-25T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T10:20:51.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When your whole life turns to POOP!</title><content type='html'>I have come to a new realization in life that is a bit funny to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just 3 short years ago, I was a member of the "GIRLS DON'T POOP" theorist.  I did not admit to, talk about, look at, or acknowledge that ANY girls pooped.  I am pretty sure, I almost had Mike convinced that I didn't!  And he was not allowed to talk about it, fart in front of me or leave a smell lingering through the house...We had been married for 3 years and I don't think I ever "pooped" with him around or any chance of finding out. It was my dirty little secret...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to today!  Delaney who is 3 years old and is just potty trained; this morning she calls me in to the bathroom, as she does EVERY time so that I can admire and congratulate her on her poop in the potty!!!  We have to do a little dance and tell her what a GREAT job pooping she did! &lt;br /&gt;Then there's Tristan- the newborn preemie- who once he started pooping and still, we tell him what a great job he did and admire his diaper and discuss with friends and family what color and consistency it is, along with how many times he's "gone" today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just find it odd that I spend most of my day congratulating and being SO PROUD of my kids for pooping! Something I used to think was un-natural.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-2676146456587134405?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2676146456587134405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=2676146456587134405' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/2676146456587134405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/2676146456587134405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2008/11/when-your-whole-life-turns-to-poop.html' title='When your whole life turns to POOP!'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-8592851400143280744</id><published>2008-11-23T20:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T11:58:59.321-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tristans Birth Story- Little Rewind...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;So, I haven't had a chance to share Tristans Birth Story- so here it goes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;I was 34 weeks pregnant on Friday, October 31st, and went to my normal OB check. This was a milestone in my pregnancy that I had been counting down to because of the high risk of pre-term delivery as a result of my cervical cancer many years ago. At 32 weeks, I had the betamethazone shots to assist in developing the baby's lungs, so my whole pregnancy we were just praying we would make it to 34 weeks! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;So on Friday I was dialated to 3- which I had been dialated for several weeks, so we werent' alarmed by that.  and I was 50% effaced.  My Dr. felt that things were holding steady and she thought we would make it another week or 2. SO home I went and we took Delaney Trick Or Treating, Which made me feel like I wanted to die!  The Dr. doubled my contraction meds that I had been on for 9 week and wanted me to take them more frequently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Saturday I went to a CaBi party just to get out of the house.  There was no way I could wipe the grump off my face- I was just done.  THe thought of being pregnant another week sounded like torture to me!  I was in so much pain and discomfort.  But I knew it was in the baby's best interest to hang out for awhile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Sunday morning I woke up and just felt nervous.  I never got out of my PJ's or had any motivation at all.  I just kept panincking.  I barely said a word to Mike or Delaney all day.  At about 2 I called my friend Megan who is a L&amp;amp;D nurse and asked her what to do.  I was so afraid of being shipped out to a bigger city.  But I couldn't get the thoughts out of my head that I was going to deliver in my office at work on Monday.  I just couldn't go to work without someone telling me "You're not having this baby tomorrow" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;SO I called the Dr. on call and she told me to come into the hospital and get monitored.  I want to say we got there about 4ish.  The monitors showed I was having pretty strong contractions.  My cervix was still a good 3.  So they decided to give me a stronger contraction med which was Tributaline shot.  It was AWFUL!  Its what I picture heroin being like.  It was supposed to last a few days, but exactly 1 hour later, the contractions picked up again.  So another shot- and now I was dialated to 4!  Exactly an hour later- contractions back again..3rd shot of Trib and now I was dialated to 5.  I was getting really frustrated.  The meds were making me feel terrible and it wasn't stopping the cervix from dialating. Nothing was going to stop that.  So At this point the Dr. came in and talked to me.  She basically said that our hospital doesn't want to deliver 34 week babies.  She wanted me to be on Magnesium Sulfate... and possibly agree to be shipped to Spokane where they had a NiCu.  At this point I asked if I had a choice... She said yes.  So this was my explanation to her: which several people disagreed with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;1- I was NOT going to take the Mag Sulf because it was still not going to stop the contractions and it would just make the baby really lethargic at birth, and he wouldn't do as well as he normally would and they would ship him out by himself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;2.- I was NOT going to be shipped out.  Mothers instict told me the baby was perfect...I wanted to chance it.  I didn't want to be un-neccisarily stuck 3 hours away from home for a week just for observation, and I wanted my Dr. to deliver the baby. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;3.- From this point on (8:00pm Sunday night) I was refusing all efforts to stop labor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;So- They called in a pediatrician and respiratory therapist to come talk to me about all the complications that could arise...the ped told me I wouldn't be able to see the baby- he would be wisked away..yada yada...They told me he probably weighed 4 1/2 to 5 lbs.  I just kept telling everyone sorry if they thought I was crazy- but I knew everything was going to be ok.  Mike at this point was completely scared and not talking at all...he had barely said 2 words to me all day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;They asked if I wanted pain meds and I told them no...I was going to give Tristan every fighting chance... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;So they gave me a pill to make me sleep (which didn't work) and they figured I would deliver somewhere around 1 in the morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;WRONG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;8:00 am they came in and woke us up.  They checked my cervix and I was still @5.  WTH?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;But a few moments later the contractions, which had died over night, picked up again.  Dr. Lapier came in and asked me if I was sure I was ready for this... I said yes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;She said she would come back at lunch time and break my water if it hadn't already.  They had all the specialist standing by, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;At 1:00 she came back,  I was only dialated to 5-6. again WTH? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;We were sitting around joking about me text messaging constantly and there she stood with the hook, I started laughing so hard, that I broke my water myself...It was quite comical given the fact there was like 20 people in the room.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;the Dr. said she would come back and check me in 3 hours!  I said YEAH RIGHT... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;about 15 minutes later- we were laughing about Delaney telling us she spilled Grandmas Beer on her shirt (it was Root Beer) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;All the sudden the pain set it!  I think the look on my face said it all, and the nurse told Dr. Lapier she better check me again before she left... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Sure enough I was dialated to 9!  Here we go! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;by 2:00 I was complete and in a sh%#tload of pain!  I had an epidural but I had the anesthisiologist put it real low just so I didn't feel the baby come out~ OOps! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;I had to WAIT to push while waiting for all the specialist to get there!  I remember seeing Mike standing clear over by the door- He was SOOO nervous!  Neither one of us knew what was about to happen.  I had, along with all the medical staff, my mom, my sister, my friend Megan, &amp;amp; Mike's mom in the room with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;At about 2:17 I got to start pushing, and at 2:32 my little boy was born...and what did I hear? about 4 people say "He's not small"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;However- at this point, they did put T on my stomach, but something happened that I won't soon forget- I CRIED so hard I couldn't open my eyes.  I don't even know how to explain it.  The emotion that came over me all the sudden. I just bawled and bawled.  I was afraid to open my eyes.  It was like- This is the moment of truth- Is the baby ok?? I think every single person in that room was bawling, I could hear them, even tho I couldn't see.. Even my nurse who had been with me the day before too- was sobbing.. It was truly a bittersweet moment!  And A relief to everyone- Not just myself.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HE WAS PERFECT&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;About 15 minutes later the pediatrician called down from the nursery- Tristan weighed 6 lbs! and was 19" long and was COMPLETELY breathing on his own!  He was in Great condition!  I couldn't wait to go see him!  It was a true miracle.  Everyone was shocked!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt; I know in my heart my Dad was in the room with me and he kept us safe.  I could feel him, and he was the voice inside me, saying everything was going to be ok!  There was no way he was going to let anything happen to Tristan and me!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;My mother being in the room was something unexpected.  She hasn't played a huge role in my life for a long time- we've had our differences.  But I think this experience was possibly a turning point.  It was amazing and frightening for her to see me give birth... its something she will always remember, and in the end it did mean alot to me for her to be there... to play a part in Tristan's life.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Tristan is 3 weeks old today- weighing in at only 5.9 - he wants to stay my tiny man forever!  Which is fine with me, because he is THRIVING.. He was only kept in the hospital for 4 days for observation and treatment of jaundice.  He is so sweet and just a perfect baby...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-8592851400143280744?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8592851400143280744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=8592851400143280744' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/8592851400143280744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/8592851400143280744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2008/11/tristans-birth-story-little-rewind.html' title='Tristans Birth Story- Little Rewind...'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424058354011758829.post-3756818231866297818</id><published>2008-11-22T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T20:15:20.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So Just some backgrounds- My first Post!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So this is my first post. I thought I should start it with some background on myself...where I've been kinda thing. I'm gonna try to keep it short. I love to talk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So this year has been a crazy one. In January we decided that we wanted to have another baby. Delaney was going to be 3 at the end of the year so we thought the timing was perfect. I wanted the kids to be exactly 3 years apart- So, I was shooting to get pregnant in March. Not to mention- Delaney was going to ask for a baby sister from Santa for Christmas... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So in March I got it set in my mind..a few of my friends said- You're crazy, you're running out of time for an 08 baby! But we were blessed and I did get pregnant in March, and ended up with the SAME due date that I had with Delaney, Dec 15th. SO here we go...puking, moods, not able to eat food, hating life... Sorry, I loathe being pregnant- BUT I just kept my eye on the prize. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;In May, my Dad, whom was my ROCK, my best friend, the soul reason I am who I am, my everything...called and told me he had cancer on his kidneys. It was called sqaumous cell carcinoma. The Dr.s told him he would need surgery to remove most of his internal organs in June- but that he would probably still have a good 5-10 years of life. I said "OK- We can get through this. Just like we ALWAYS do" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;On June 13th he had his surgery. I was 4 months pregnant. He made me PROMISE OVER AND OVER that I would never do anything to jepordize my pregnancy. The baby already meant so much to him. They removed his Colon, Rectum, Prostate, Bladder, and appendix. He had an Urostomy and Colostomy bag. He seemed to do well with the surgery, and went home about 2 weeks later. He was making strides in getting well through the month of July. We were down to see him several times. He had started Radiation, and really sounded positive. Then on August 3rd, I received a call early in the morning that he had been rushed to the ER by Ambulance. To make a VERY long couple of weeks shorter- a whole had been burned in his intestine, he went through 2 more surgeries and double kidney failure. This battle was over- just how long was it going to take. I was crushed, and refused to give in to the fact that this man, the strongest man I had EVER known- was going. He tried to protect me because I was pregnant and refused to talk about "the end" with me. Something I very much regret!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;On Labor Day weekend we were in Boise for 5 days as we thought that was the end. We came home on Monday and I was having contractions already at 25 weeks pregnant. I went to the dr and my cervix was already dialating and I was put on contraction medication. I was in pre-term labor and had the stress of the world on my shoulders... There was NO way to relax. Those last couple days, all I wanted to do was talk to him and tell him I was going to be ok, that I loved him, and I would tell Tristan all about him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;On September 17th, early in the morning, My father passed away, he was 66. It was something I had prayed for, to please take his pain away, and now it was all over. This was the worst moment in my life, I had NO IDEA it would hurt so much, I almost couldn't breathe. It amazed me that in one moment, all the pain that he had felt for all those months suddenly passed to me, to my heart...I will never forget that feeling. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I made it through another 9 weeks in my pregnancy, despite a huge load of responsibilities taking care of my Dad's affairs. I had a REALLY strong support system in my family and my friends- mainly my TWW DOOPS girls! &amp;amp; How could Delaney not get me through this, reminding me every day that Papa was "with Kevin (Heaven) with the angels" :) I think the thing that gets me through each day, is now my dad is watching over us all the time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;On November 3rd @ 2:32 pm my tiny wonder Tristan Michael was born 6 weeks premature. It was a bittersweet moment. So much emotion, and the last 5 months, came to an end, in one moment, and started down a new road. All the sudden I wasn't sure what to do. In my blog you will probably see my strong days and see my weak days. I miss my dad with every ounce of my heart, and I love my family with every ounce of my heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I pray every day for just one more minute... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424058354011758829-3756818231866297818?l=dandtsmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3756818231866297818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424058354011758829&amp;postID=3756818231866297818' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/3756818231866297818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424058354011758829/posts/default/3756818231866297818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dandtsmom.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-just-some-backgrounds-my-first-post.html' title='So Just some backgrounds- My first Post!'/><author><name>Mom 2 D and T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16723472652682586525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rN6UuqCf9v4/SSNa3o2n6YI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6u31_DdNfa0/S220/baby_holder.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
