<?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-6182507679282795462</id><updated>2011-06-08T01:06:37.673-04:00</updated><category term='Blog Award'/><category term='Me'/><category term='Corruption'/><category term='Bees'/><category term='8 random things'/><category term='meme'/><category term='miracle'/><category term='suing'/><category term='David'/><category term='Freedom'/><category term='cheer leading'/><category term='public'/><category term='movies'/><category term='craziness'/><category term='politics'/><category term='mistakes'/><category term='Sadie'/><category term='awesome'/><category term='hurricanes'/><category term='Liberty'/><category term='abortion'/><category term='Harry Potter. Openning night'/><category term='no more redheads'/><category term='America'/><category term='eliza'/><category term='slide show'/><category term='Angry'/><category term='Drugs'/><category term='life'/><category term='chic-fil-a'/><category term='parents'/><category term='Pres. Calderon'/><category term='red hair'/><category term='pecans'/><category term='Scum walks free'/><category term='mall'/><category term='water table'/><category term='toddlers'/><category term='president'/><category term='love'/><category term='Mexico'/><category term='adoption'/><title type='text'>The Other Side</title><subtitle type='html'>Right now most of my life is being a mom, which I am SO HAPPY about and enjoy very much.  But I do have another side of me that is the me that is the girl I was before I was Mommy.  I have another cute, yet sometimes dull blog that consists of pictures and stories about my adorable daughters. There is no doubt this blog is boring too, just less sweet.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-2814451133771778027</id><published>2007-09-04T19:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T19:38:46.990-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pres. Calderon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Corruption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mexico'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Where is Mexico?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/Rt3rT3zuubI/AAAAAAAAAUw/SGJAA5xiKjA/s1600-h/holding+hands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/Rt3rT3zuubI/AAAAAAAAAUw/SGJAA5xiKjA/s200/holding+hands.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106496279138974130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Where there is a Mexican, there is Mexico. Mexico does not end at its borders."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       - &lt;/span&gt;Mexico's President &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Felipe Calderon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="font-family: verdana;" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/David/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-14.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Awwwweeee, what a sweet State of the Union Address President Calderon gave.  How beautiful. I had no idea that Mexico so lovingly extended its borders. Pres. Calderon also preached about how he is going to "redouble efforts to protect the rights of undocumented Mexicans living in the US."  He is also against a wall being constructed between our two countries.  I personally don't know why he is worried about a wall.  A wall can't stop Mexico from living in our hearts (or wherever a Mexican lives).  I read about it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://www.allheadlinenews.com/articles/7008396860"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Hmmmm....whats funny about Pres. Calderon's heartwarming speech is that Mexico somehow forgets how open she is when it comes to letting in folks through their Southern' border.  It turns out that Belize and Guatemala are more depressed than Mexico.  The Mexicans do a great job protecting their Southern Border from the entrance of illegal immigrants, (I mean, undocumented workers).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;I am sure that Pres. Calderon is a loving man who cares deeply about the immigrants from his country who reside in the US.  He is sweet that way.  I know its not really any of my business or anything but I'd like to see a little more effort going towards cleaning up the extensive corruption in the Mexican Government and Law Enforcement Agencies.  It is a little too well known that Mexican Law Enforcement and Government Officials can easily be paid off. Gangs have way too much power down there.  Its out of control. (I am not implying that the US doesn't have problems with corruption.  Its just no where near as extensive as it is in Mexico."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Ya know, I think we need to just hug it out till we can work it out with Mexico. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-2814451133771778027?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/2814451133771778027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=2814451133771778027' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/2814451133771778027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/2814451133771778027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/09/where-is-mexico.html' title='Where is Mexico?'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/TI1wICFYpWI/AAAAAAAABrs/p5peSKdGdj8/S220/Terry+with+Levi+in+Moby.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/Rt3rT3zuubI/AAAAAAAAAUw/SGJAA5xiKjA/s72-c/holding+hands.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-5879946633638643837</id><published>2007-08-15T14:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T15:48:50.233-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eliza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bees'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='water table'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sadie'/><title type='text'>Bee Invasion</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/RsNFdorMtLI/AAAAAAAAATI/IBKpf1gXU_k/s1600-h/August+2007+098.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/RsNFdorMtLI/AAAAAAAAATI/IBKpf1gXU_k/s400/August+2007+098.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098995578550662322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday afternoon I took the girls outside to play at their water table.  The water in it was dirty so I picked it up and tipped it out over the banister.  I soon noticed a whole bunch of bees flying around.  Then I looked down in front of me and saw a bees nest attached underneath the water table.  I quickly let go of the table and it fell off the banister onto the ground below.  The bees were all upset and I hurried the girls into the house.  Eliza and Sadie were so upset that they didn't get to play in the water.  We watched the bees fly around all upset through the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am actually kind-of surprised that I didn't get stung when I was disrupting the bees nest.  Without realizing it, when I had the table resting on its side on the banister, the nest was parallel with my stomach.  Scary.  I told David about it on the phone.  When he got home from work he picked the nest up with his hands and carried it to some spot in the yard and smooched it with his shoe.  A bee tried to follow him into the house but he managed to keep it out.  I like to go to David's blog and tease him by making this  comment , "You are so brave."  Its sort-of turned into a joke between us.  However, this time I have to say that&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;David really is brave! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So the girls got to have their water table fun this morning instead.   (You may have noticed that Sadie's swim suit is a little too big.  She refused to take her suit off last night and it got dirty when she ate dinner in it.  She had to wear one of Eliza's swim suits instead).  As the kiddos played I kept my eyes on these four bees who kept flying around us.  They mostly hung out on the ceiling of the porch.  They were making me nervous.  After about 40 minutes I think I finally made Eliza nervous enough to want to come inside.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Does anyone know how to dissuade these bees from being interested in living on my porch?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-5879946633638643837?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/5879946633638643837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=5879946633638643837' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/5879946633638643837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/5879946633638643837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/08/bee.html' title='Bee Invasion'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/TI1wICFYpWI/AAAAAAAABrs/p5peSKdGdj8/S220/Terry+with+Levi+in+Moby.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/RsNFdorMtLI/AAAAAAAAATI/IBKpf1gXU_k/s72-c/August+2007+098.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-4440514947470951160</id><published>2007-07-24T15:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T17:30:24.910-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scum walks free'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Angry'/><title type='text'>Scum Walking!</title><content type='html'>I  listened to Sean Hannity on the radio yesterday evening.  He told a &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/07/22/charges.dismissed.ap/index.html?eref=rss_topstories"&gt;news story&lt;/a&gt; that I can't stop thinking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years ago, police in Maryland arrested Mahamu Kanneh for REPEATED Sexual Assualt to a 7 year old girl.  He spent one night in jail and was released on bail.  Judge Katherine D. Savage has  dismissed the case!  Why?....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kanneh, immigrated to the US from Liberia.  He was granted asylum.  He attended high school and college in the United States.  He spoke English to the detectives who first arrested him.  However, when interviewed by a court psychiatrist, it was determined that he needed a translator.  (Am I the only one who thinks that would be easy to fake?). The court had a difficult time finding a translator of his remote West-African triable language.  Hence a delay in his trail.  Kenneh's attorney argued that he has been denied his right to a speedy trial.  So, his case is dismissed and he &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cannont &lt;/span&gt;be charged again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story infuriates me!!  This child rapist is now freely living  in society!  So, Kenneh manges to get through high school and 2 years of college.  He knows enough English to accomplish that but not to stand trial!!  Okay, but lets say he didn't speak a word of English, we still can't let him go free because the courts don't find a translator in time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never had passionate feelings about an Official Language, per say.  I've thought about it before.  I have always thought it was important for the citizens of our country to speak the same language.  I mean if New Englanders spoke a different language than Iowans than it would be a dividing. Our Founding Fathers did not want the States to be like Europe.  We want our great States to stand United and strong, right?  I believe we need to speak the same language to encourage communication and unity.  While I believe that I never formed a passionate opinion about laws being passed in regards to an official legal language....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until now...If you immigrate to this country and don't speak English than you better not commit any crimes.  I think its fine to continue to provide translators to the accused if its convenient.  I mean, hey, the tax payers don't have enough to pay for, right!  But, in a case like this where its nearly impossible, than the accused should stand trial in English.  I am irked!  This evil creep spoke enough English anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;As a society, we HAVE to PROTECT OUR CHILDREN!!! One cannot steal the innocence of a seven year old and walk free to harm the next child because of a pitiful reason like this!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The next time Kenneh gets charged, after another innocent child is harmed, he will just pretend he doesn't speak English again.  I hope the courts are prepared next time.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-4440514947470951160?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/4440514947470951160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=4440514947470951160' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/4440514947470951160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/4440514947470951160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/07/scum-walking.html' title='Scum Walking!'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/TI1wICFYpWI/AAAAAAAABrs/p5peSKdGdj8/S220/Terry+with+Levi+in+Moby.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-5652066153339108263</id><published>2007-07-14T09:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T07:41:50.299-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adoption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abortion'/><title type='text'>I Would Die For That</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param value="http://youtube.com/v/JqfGqOx2iDQ" name="movie"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://youtube.com/v/JqfGqOx2iDQ" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;a href="http://wwwsteelmagnolia.blogspot.com/"&gt;Terri&lt;/a&gt; just introduced me to &lt;a href="http://www.voteforbecki.com/"&gt;Becki&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;a href="http://www.voteforbecki.com/"&gt;Becki&lt;/a&gt; is awesome.  She had this video posted on her blog.  I really liked it.  I often think about how grateful I am that Eliza's birthmom chose to place her baby for adoption and David and I are SO lucky she chose to place with us.  This movie reminded me that before she chose adoption, she chose life.  I am so grateful she let her baby live.  I commend all single moms who make the sometimes difficult choice to choose life, especially when it seems so much easier to just end an unwanted pregnancy. Its so sad that the laws of our country do not protect the rights of an innocent, defenseless baby to live.  Instead, laws protect a woman's choice to  destroy her own child.  The laws should be standing up for and protecting the voiceless baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-5652066153339108263?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/5652066153339108263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=5652066153339108263' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/5652066153339108263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/5652066153339108263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-would-die-for-that.html' title='I Would Die For That'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/TI1wICFYpWI/AAAAAAAABrs/p5peSKdGdj8/S220/Terry+with+Levi+in+Moby.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-5684888641791674197</id><published>2007-07-13T15:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T15:36:19.337-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Harry Potter. Openning night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='David'/><title type='text'>Whats with opening night?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.smv.org/nowshowing/IMAXDome/hpootp/images/web_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.smv.org/nowshowing/IMAXDome/hpootp/images/web_poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David has a ticket to go see Harry Potter tomorrow night at Richmond's Imax Theater.  He was able to persuade me that it would be worth it to some people to pay a few dollars more to see a movie on a giant Imax screen than on a regular big screen.  I personally don't care.  I am happy to watch movies at home on dvd, but I can see how some people might prefer the big screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I don't get:  David is very happy to be going to the movies.  Its a rare treat for him, even rarer for me but I care less.  However, each time a Harry Potter or a Star Wars movie came out he feels like he HAS to see it on opening night.  (He even saw some of them in theater more than once).  This time is no exception, while he is happy to be seeing the movie at all, he still made the comment that its too bad he doesn't get to go on opening night.  Whats with opening night?  The movie is the same on opening night and two nights later.  And why does he enjoy watching the same trailers over and over again?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-5684888641791674197?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/5684888641791674197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=5684888641791674197' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/5684888641791674197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/5684888641791674197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/07/whats-with-opening-night.html' title='Whats with opening night?'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/TI1wICFYpWI/AAAAAAAABrs/p5peSKdGdj8/S220/Terry+with+Levi+in+Moby.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-79410866883052970</id><published>2007-07-10T19:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T17:59:17.790-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheer leading'/><title type='text'>Parents Can Be So Silly</title><content type='html'>A Texas high school had cheer leading tryouts last May. Typically a squad has 8 members but last year the school made an exception and had 9 members instead.  This year they didn't make the exception and they had to cut one person who tried out.  The young lady who was cut was a 14 year old, soon to be freshman.  She is devastated, embarrassed, humiliated, crying all the time etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do her parents do? They say, "Oh thats too bad, Honey. You did great anyway.  Better luck next year." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOPE!!!!  Silly Parents...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead they hire an attorney.  Thats right; they are suing because baby girl doesn't get to cheer this year.  They "want her cheering, not crying."  After all, "I'm very disappointed with my school," Wycoda, the cut teen, said "I've been in it all my life. It was a big dream."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean thats too bad that she was the only girl cut and it seems easy enough to me to just let one more girl be on the squad.  However, it seems selfish to me to sue the school.  As a tax payer, I don't want the school's money to be spent in court on a stupid case like this.  I would like my tax money to go to, ummm, I don't know.... Education??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she does win, will she not be embarrassed that the only reason she's on the squad is because her parents bullied the school into making another exception?  It seems like a little case of "I believe the whole world revolves around me syndrome."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thevictoriaadvocate.com/428/story/86259.html"&gt;Read the article here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-79410866883052970?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/79410866883052970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=79410866883052970' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/79410866883052970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/79410866883052970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/07/sometimes-parents-irk-me.html' title='Parents Can Be So Silly'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lhV8CldRCGA/TI1wICFYpWI/AAAAAAAABrs/p5peSKdGdj8/S220/Terry+with+Levi+in+Moby.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-6453811530942265155</id><published>2007-07-09T16:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T16:51:07.550-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Liberty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='America'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Freedom'/><title type='text'>GOD BLESS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</title><content type='html'>This is a little late but I still want to make an Independence Day Post. Last week on the 3rd of July I was listening to Glen Beck on the radio as I was driving in my car. I caught the end of a story he was telling about the sacrifice of a patriot from Virginia, who was once wealthy but gave up all of his riches because he had a vision for a new government that granted liberty to all. He signed the Declaration of Independence. By so doing, he became a target for the British. &lt;a href="http://www.glennbeck.com/news/07032007b.shtml"&gt;The entire essay that Mr. Beck&lt;/a&gt; delivered is posted on his website. Please take the time to read it. Its excellent and its short. The following is an exerpt from the essay:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:9;"  &gt;"Thomas Nelson, Jr. of Virginia raised more than $2 million for the patriots cause on his own personal credit. The Government never reimbursed him, and repaying the loans wiped out his entire estate. During the battle of Yorktown, his house which had been seized by the British and occupied by General Cornwallis, Nelson quietly urged the gunners to fire on his own home. They did so destroying it. He was never again a man of wealth. He died, was buried in an unmarked grave. He stopped in a New Jersey Supreme Court, betrayed by loyalist neighbors. He was dragged from his bed, thrown in prison where he was brutally beaten and starved. His lands were devastated, his horses stolen, his library burned and his family lived on charity for the rest of their lives. And then there was John Hart, the speaker of the New Jersey assembly. He was forced to flee in the winter of '76 at the age of 65 from his dying wife's bedside while he hid in forests and caves. His home was demolished, his fields and mill lay waste and his 13 children put to flight. When it was finally safe for him to return, he fou&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;nd &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;his wife       dead, his children missing, his property decimated. He never       saw any of his family again."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Arial;font-size:9;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;God truly has blessed this great nation. I am so blessed to live here and enjoy liberty. I am so grateful for the brave men and women who willingly sacrificed their lives and wealth for the great cause of liberty. Thank God for their vision and dedication to freedom! God bless our beloved troops, and all the men and women, who are serving today to preserve the liberty that keeps us comfortable and provides us with endless opportunity in the land of the free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-6453811530942265155?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/6453811530942265155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=6453811530942265155' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/6453811530942265155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/6453811530942265155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/07/god-bless-united-states-of-america.html' title='GOD BLESS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-4762997156106654897</id><published>2007-07-08T14:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T15:07:06.189-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='toddlers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='public'/><title type='text'>Toddlers in public update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpE10QI548I/AAAAAAAAAB0/f-WFTWkqvfU/s1600-h/June+2007+088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpE10QI548I/AAAAAAAAAB0/f-WFTWkqvfU/s200/June+2007+088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084904626079785922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpEvWAI543I/AAAAAAAAABM/-0NZv5JO8zA/s1600-h/June+2007+087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpEvWAI543I/AAAAAAAAABM/-0NZv5JO8zA/s200/June+2007+087.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084897509318976370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpEvXAI545I/AAAAAAAAABc/boBL0QGI4bw/s1600-h/June+2007+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpEvXAI545I/AAAAAAAAABc/boBL0QGI4bw/s200/June+2007+095.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084897526498845586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpEvXgI546I/AAAAAAAAABk/Xj3CGmK5H7g/s1600-h/June+2007+103.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpEvXgI546I/AAAAAAAAABk/Xj3CGmK5H7g/s200/June+2007+103.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084897535088780194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpEvYAI547I/AAAAAAAAABs/HNiolXeb_5s/s1600-h/June+2007+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpEvYAI547I/AAAAAAAAABs/HNiolXeb_5s/s200/June+2007+074.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084897543678714802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpErwwI54yI/AAAAAAAAAAk/o8BsehZyNYc/s1600-h/June+2007+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpErwwI54yI/AAAAAAAAAAk/o8BsehZyNYc/s200/June+2007+046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084893570833965858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpErxgI54zI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MzLfRybMO4U/s1600-h/June+2007+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpErxgI54zI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MzLfRybMO4U/s200/June+2007+052.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084893583718867762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpErxwI540I/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ij3jVnIEbcA/s1600-h/June+2007+051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpErxwI540I/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ij3jVnIEbcA/s200/June+2007+051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084893588013835074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpEryQI541I/AAAAAAAAAA8/Q2Oe2DffOcI/s1600-h/June+2007+059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpEryQI541I/AAAAAAAAAA8/Q2Oe2DffOcI/s200/June+2007+059.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084893596603769682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpErywI542I/AAAAAAAAABE/aPOYmqUFKkI/s1600-h/June+2007+068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpErywI542I/AAAAAAAAABE/aPOYmqUFKkI/s200/June+2007+068.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084893605193704290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago I posted about my nightmare taking the tots out in public by myself.  I mentioned that I would be taking them to the mall again without hubby.  My friend and her mom came too so that helped a lot!  The kid/grown-up ratio was better (3 toddlers and a baby to 3 adults).    We had a fun time.  The girls liked the show for a little while but then they got bored and we went to the play yard area.  Free breakfast always tastes better too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-4762997156106654897?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/4762997156106654897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=4762997156106654897' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/4762997156106654897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/4762997156106654897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/07/toddlers-in-public-update.html' title='Toddlers in public update'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/RpE10QI548I/AAAAAAAAAB0/f-WFTWkqvfU/s72-c/June+2007+088.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-6282948241066601348</id><published>2007-07-05T18:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T18:27:45.765-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='awesome'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog Award'/><title type='text'>Bloggy Award</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/Ro1sbwI54xI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_s58yofIO2I/s1600-h/Awsome%2Bblogger.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/Ro1sbwI54xI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_s58yofIO2I/s200/Awsome%2Bblogger.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083838778405675794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Many thanks to &lt;a href="http://backhometostay.blogspot.com/"&gt;I'm_Inspired&lt;/a&gt; for giving me the honor of holding the Awesome Blogger Award!  This is my very first blogger award so I'm pretty excited.  &lt;a href="http://backhometostay.blogspot.com/"&gt;I'm_Inspired&lt;/a&gt; explained that &lt;a href="http://mminzes.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mike M.&lt;/a&gt; gave her the award (because she is Soooo awesome) and crossed out the "Dude" part.  So now that I qualify as a judge of awesome bloggers, I grant this award to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://whereisdinwiddie.blogspot.com/"&gt;David&lt;/a&gt;- Of course I enjoy reading David's blogs.  I am pretty interested in his life, I admit.  The only thing that would make him even more awesome is if he figured out a way to blog and still get at least five hours of sleep at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.johnqcasual.com/blog/"&gt;Jeff&lt;/a&gt;-I love your Hilarious blog stunts.  I miss you when you don't post for awhile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mollyhenry.blogspot.com/"&gt;Molly&lt;/a&gt;-You know I've always thought you were funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/11784173081245407124"&gt;Terri&lt;/a&gt;-I look forward to reading you posts.  I especailly love your political ones because I always agree.  You are right on!  Plus, you just sooooo sweet; its  a pleasure to know you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/07950880083795695746"&gt;Gina&lt;/a&gt;-I simply love you!  You are the greatest gal.  Everyone loves you.  People are drawn to you.  Plus, you have a fun blog!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/David/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-5.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-6282948241066601348?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/6282948241066601348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=6282948241066601348' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/6282948241066601348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/6282948241066601348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/07/bloggy-award.html' title='Bloggy Award'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/Ro1sbwI54xI/AAAAAAAAAAc/_s58yofIO2I/s72-c/Awsome%2Bblogger.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-8617779241289360088</id><published>2007-07-02T12:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T20:17:47.899-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='president'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drugs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mistakes'/><title type='text'>The Drug Debate (made bigger by me)</title><content type='html'>I watched two women debating on the classic FOX News split screen this morning.  The topic: Do American Voters care if their president has used drugs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reportedly, 2008 Presidential Candidate, Barack Obama has admitted to using marijuana and cocaine.   Sen. John Edwards, Presidential Candidate, and Senator John Kerry also admitted to using marijuana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the first woman, a Strategist for the Democratic Party, argued that American voters do not care whether or not a candidate has used illegal drugs. Voters will just dismiss it as something these guys did in their college days.  It doesn't have anything to do with WHO they are.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I can argue that what you do has everything to do with who you are.  Our choices and actions are a direct reflection as to who we are.  So, if we can't use one's actions and choices to make judgments, what other reliable thing should we use to determine WHO someone is?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The other woman (I can't remember her title), believes that American voters may not care so much if the candidate used drugs, as much as they care about how they react to the implication.   For instance, Does the candidate just arrogantly blow off the fact that he used drugs as a no big deal thing from his youth?  OR Does he acknowledge that his drug use hurt himself and others?"  Then she says something along the lines of, "Does the candidate admit to using illegal drugs and acknowledge that he made a mistake and that he has learned from it; now he is a stronger and better person for it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uggg... First, lets define "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mistake&lt;/span&gt;."  To me, a mistake is when I ask my husband to bring home a jug of  whole milk for the baby and he grabs skim milk off the store shelf instead.  Calling bad choices mistakes is very popular in our culture.  I think it is something we do to relieve guilt; you know, minimize the bad choice by calling it a mistake, that way it sounds more like an unintended accident from their youth.  Next I would like to know how one becomes a "stronger, better" person because they used drugs.  I would argue that the individual who resisted the temptation, and chose Not to use drugs in the first place is the stronger person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not saying we shouldn't forgive these guys.  When I was young, I drove too fast very frequently.  Then I became a mother.  I have slowed down since the first time my little baby rode in the backseat.  Every time any of us get into a motor vehicle we take a risk of harm.  By driving too fast, I increased the risk to myself and others.  I have matured and slowed down, I could  say I am a better person because I made the mistake of speeding but I learned from it and now I am stronger than ever.  See, thats ridiculous.  It simple, it would have been better if I never drove too fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would even possibly vote for someone who had used illegal drugs if I weighed them against their opponents and I liked them better.  Lets just stop dancing around the truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-8617779241289360088?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/8617779241289360088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=8617779241289360088' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/8617779241289360088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/8617779241289360088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/07/drug-debate-made-bigger-by-me.html' title='The Drug Debate (made bigger by me)'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-5463565818071623555</id><published>2007-07-01T14:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T21:56:36.626-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eliza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='toddlers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sadie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='public'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chic-fil-a'/><title type='text'>Toddlers In Public: the scariest minute of my life</title><content type='html'>About six months ago I took my two toddlers, ages 2.5 years and 14 months, to the mall.  There is a play area in the mall for the little ones to play in.  The area is sectioned off with  three foot walls.  There is only one entrance in and out of the area.  The walls of the whole area are lined with benches.  I usually sit down by the doorway so that I can make sure my kids don't leave.  This time, however, there were already parents occupying those seats at the doorway.  My two kids were going in different directions the whole time.  I kept switching back and forth, watching both kids constantly.   I was walking around making sure I could see both kiddos. I noticed a woman sitting down chatting on her cell phone.  Another mom was reading a book.  I thought about how I can't relax like them because I am actively watching my kids.  (Their kids were older than mine and probably less likely to escape).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, 14 month old, Sadie, was at a stage where she LOVED climbing, yet she wasn't so good at it yet.  I was helping her climb a slide in the middle of the play area.  She had my complete attention and my eyes were off Eliza for about a full 30 seconds.  I looked up and around for Eliza.  I couldn't see her.  I didn't panic at first because I figured she was hiding in one of the crawl tunnels or something.  I peeked  in the ones that I couldn't directly see in by looking around and she wasn't there.  I picked Sadie up and walked around calling, "Eliza, Eliza."  Another mother detected the panic in my voice and said, "There is a little girl and a little boy playing over there." She pointed over the wall.  I ran out and found Eliza and another boy, about age 4, playing on the mall rental strollers, designed to look like police cars, that line the wall.  I stooped down to her level and gave her a lecture about how scared I was and how she can't walk away from Mommy because she could get lost or a bad person could steal her away from me (YES, I wanted to scare her...the child is fearless).  Soon the boy's mother came over and took the boy by the hand and told him to stay inside the play area.  I put both girls in the stroller and left right then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ironically, just a few minutes before, I was thinking about how carefully I was watching my kids and I couldn't relax and talk on the phone or read a book like these other moms... THEN it was my kid who escaped and disappeared!!  I obviously do not watch two children, who are going different directions very effectively.   The whole way home I felt sick thinking about what could've happened.  I decided right away that I was not taking my kids anywhere in public again unless David was there and we could divide the children. For over six months I have not taken the kids anywhere that they could not easily be contained.  Our outings have only been to friend's homes or to Sam's Club because their carts have two child seats in them, or to the Food Lion that is 12 miles past the closest Food Lion to my house because they have a cart with a car in front that both kids can sit in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THE HAPPY ENDING:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my little toddler pair have also been a bit of a challenge to control at Church.  But things are getting better.  We went two Sundays (today makes three!) in a row without having to take them to the hall during Sacrament Meeting (the service) !!!  So... after A LOT of thought, I decided to try to take them somewhere by MYSELF!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days ago, the girls and I went to Chic-Fil-A.  It was the really busy lunch hour.  I knew it would be tough to keep them both with me while we waited in a long line to order.  So, I went through the Drive-thru.  The whole time we were in line, Eliza kept telling me that she wanted to go inside.  She pointed to parking spaces and told me to put the car there and go inside.  I took the opportunity to get her to commit to staying with me and listening if we go inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got our food and parked.  We walked inside and I directed Eliza to an empty table.  She sat down, opened up the bag and started to pass out the food as I strapped Sadie into the high chair.&lt;br /&gt;The girls and I  ate, and then together we walked to the indoor playground (well, Eliza ran ahead a little).  I let them play in there for over an hour.  Once we left to change Sadie's diaper.  Eliza told me she would wait there for me but when I insisted she come with me to the bathroom, she put her shoes on and came.  Then we went back.  I was pleasantly surprised to get cooperation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadie usually watches as the big kids climb the stepping platforms to the tunnels that lead to the slide, but this time she attempted the climb for the first time.  It was a slow process.  At one point both Eliza and Sadie were standing on about the fourth platform when an older boy raced around them.  As he passed he said, to his friend he was racing, "I had to go around some babies!"  Eliza exclaims, "No, we're girls!" (They're not babies, babies are little like &lt;a href="http://mommyterry.blogspot.com/2007/06/wyatts-house-is-so-fun.html"&gt;Baby Elliot&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://keepntouchwithu.blogspot.com/2007/06/pretty-girls.html"&gt;Baby Kayla&lt;/a&gt;)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadie was timidly and cautiously making her way up the platforms.  She stood on the third one for a long time.  A ten year old girl said to me, "I think your baby is stuck, I'll help her."  She put her hands under Sadie's arms and tried to lift her.  Sadie whined and held tightly to the step.  I could Sadie wasn't going to go with her so I got up.  I heard Sadie say, "I scared... I want Mommy."  The ten year old told me that she wouldn't go with her. I explained that she's shy.  Sadie is much more cautious of strangers and Eliza is always looking for a playmate.  She especially loves big kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to another mom while we were in there.  She told me about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.chesterfieldcenter.com/announcements.asp?3411"&gt;Club Mom&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;at Chesterfield Towne Center Mall.  The first Tuesday of every month from 9-11 am there is a free event for parents and children under 12.  There is FREE entertainment like a magician or puppet show.  There are vendors who give away balloons and gift bags.  Parents and kids under 12 can get FREE breakfast!  You are given tickets and you take them to any of the participating food court restaurants and you get FREE breakfast.  Thats sounds like so much fun and its FREE!!!  So, I'm excited to try that on Tuesday!  We're meeting our friends there too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited that I had a successful outing with my toddlers!!!!  I hope I don't regret taking them to the mall on Tuesday.  I am taking the stroller and the toddler leashes.  I heard the place gets pretty crowded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and if for some reason you are interested, you can view some pictures of the said mall play area &lt;a href="http://mommyterry.blogspot.com/2007/07/mall-play-yard.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  David and I took the girls there &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;together&lt;/span&gt; yesterday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-5463565818071623555?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/5463565818071623555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=5463565818071623555' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/5463565818071623555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/5463565818071623555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/07/toddlers-in-public-scariest-minute-of.html' title='Toddlers In Public: the scariest minute of my life'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-7501003381071855509</id><published>2007-06-18T19:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T21:26:11.772-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='8 random things'/><title type='text'>8 Random Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://whereisdinwiddie.blogspot.com/"&gt;David&lt;/a&gt;, my better half, tagged me for the 8 Random Things MeMe.  As you know if you've read my, &lt;a href="http://tarrie.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-narcissistic-list-about-me.html"&gt;100 Things About Me List,&lt;/a&gt; which you probably haven't, I am narcissistic. So this is a fun game for me. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rules: Players start with 8 random facts about themselves. Those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts. Players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been tagged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  When I was on my honeymoon I was solicited as a prostitute.  You see, David and I had just been in California where we had a wedding reception.  On our drive back to Utah, we stopped and stayed the night in Reno, NV.  Well, we slept in and we got a late start the next morning.  The McDonalds on the strip had no drive-thru.  I came up with a clever way to save time.  David could drop me off on the corner, I would walk to the McDonalds and buy breakfast while he filled the car up with gas.  There was a man standing on the said corner.  As I approached he said, "I know you, I know you."  I walked away fast.  He continued, "You were good! I know you!."  I walked even faster.  He goes on, "Come back..." I look over my shoulder.   He waves a dollar bill in the air and says, "I've got money. You were good."  Finally I reached the McDonalds and go in.  Then I thought, "Hey, he only offered me one dollar? I don't know much about the going rates for prostitutes, but I'm insulted."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Half of the time I envy people who "LOVE to exercise."  The other half of the time I don't believe them.  I mean, I know that you feel good after you exercise and your dopamine levels go up or whatever and thats nice.  But who really LOVES to run?  I just don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  My first kiss (French style, that is) was stinky for me.  The guy smoked and I could taste the cigarette smoke.  Second hand tobacco tastes nasty.  Plus, I didn't like the guy more than a friend.  I just hung out with him because I thought I could "save" him and help him make better life choices.  I was a naive and very optimistic teenager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.   I don't enjoy watching  a movie more than once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I like night lights.  I am not afraid of the dark or anything. I even prefer sleeping in the dark. I just love to buy fun night lights and plug them in around the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I have a reoccurring nightmare in which I have gum stuck in mouth.  I spit it out but there is always some left.  I try to pull it out and I can never get it all out.  Its horrible!  Well, I thought this dream was unique to me but I just recently learned from my friend, &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/07950880083795695746"&gt;Gina&lt;/a&gt;, and the internet  that it is actually a common dream. According to the &lt;a href="http://www.dreamdoctor.com/"&gt;Dream Doctor&lt;/a&gt;, this dream means that I am frustrated because I have something to say but I can't communicate it.  I need to stand up for myself or learn to articulate my words better.  Hmmm.... my mom always tells me that I  "need to get a backbone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/Rnh7ep-NnDI/AAAAAAAAAAU/5tyfP7kfMIA/s1600-h/April+and+May+07+Montage+collection+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/Rnh7ep-NnDI/AAAAAAAAAAU/5tyfP7kfMIA/s200/April+and+May+07+Montage+collection+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077944346453318706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I have committed to only living with shed free animals from now on.  I think that  kids who grow up without a pet &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;CAN&lt;/span&gt; be weird around animals.  I don't want my kids to be like that but I am grossed out by pet hair on the furniture (or worse, on the baby).  My cat may look like an alien but at least he's a &lt;a href="http://www.cfainc.org/breeds/profiles/cornish.html"&gt;special breed&lt;/a&gt; that doesn't shed. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  I  hope to have four or five kids someday.  (I've got two).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, My house isn't always messy, it just looks that way in the pictures I tend to take during playtime. :) Do you believe me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I have no idea who to tag because all my blog friends were either tagged by David or have done this list recently.  So, I will send out a few reminders and a few original tags:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/07950880083795695746"&gt;Gina&lt;/a&gt;: my inspiration to start a blog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mollyhenry.blogspot.com/"&gt;Molly&lt;/a&gt;: my sister&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My funny brother-in-law, &lt;a href="http://www.johnqcasual.com/blog/"&gt;Jeff&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mylicense2kill.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://mylicense2kill.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mr. Kill&lt;/a&gt; - amazing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://swampbrat.blogspot.com/"&gt;Tori&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://swampbrat.blogspot.com/"&gt;,&lt;/a&gt; very entertaining gal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Very Kind,  &lt;a href="http://backhometostay.blogspot.com/"&gt;I'm_Inspired&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The oh so sweet, &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/11784173081245407124"&gt;Terri&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... thats only 7.  Its not that I am not interested in you, its just that I think you've already been tagged.  So I haven't really followed the rules.... I heard that means I will have 8 years of bad luck or my mother will die.  Dang....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-7501003381071855509?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/7501003381071855509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=7501003381071855509' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/7501003381071855509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/7501003381071855509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/06/8-random-things.html' title='8 Random Things'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/Rnh7ep-NnDI/AAAAAAAAAAU/5tyfP7kfMIA/s72-c/April+and+May+07+Montage+collection+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-3341845236587190157</id><published>2007-06-14T22:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T22:30:10.989-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurricanes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craziness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Political Weather</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;So even the weather is liberal now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The County Commissioners (all Democrats) from Broward County, FL announced that they will discontinue broadcasting &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;emergency news&lt;/span&gt; with the Miami Radio Station WIOD AM610.  The reason?  Because the radio station carries the Rush Limbaugh show and the Sean Hannity show. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica;font-size:100%;"  &gt;      Commissioner Stacy Ritter said she "&lt;a href="http://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/local/broward/sfl-churricane13jun13,0,4183214.story?coll=sfla-news-broward"&gt;did not want to support a station that's out of step with area politics."&lt;/a&gt;  Seriously?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it comes to this!  The County Commissioners do not want to broadcast hurricane warnings on a station with conservative programing.  I heard an interview on Fox News tonight with the Program Director of the said radio station.  He explained that his NEWS radio station has The Best News team in all of South Florida, they have sister FM stations and the Largest Listener Base in the area.  If your stuck  in traffic and your car is starting to float, and you need info, would you care who delivered your emergency news?  This is so hard to believe, I actually laughed when I heard the report.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can not relate to Michael Moore at all.  I do not understand why so many people listen to him.  However, if a hurricane was on its way, not only would I be happy to inform &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fahrenheit 911&lt;/span&gt; viewers , I'd be happy to help Michael Moore, himself.  If his radio show (if he had one, that is) had info about the storm, I'd even turn it on.  Crazy, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think these County Commissioners speak for everyone.  I'd guess that even their liberal constituents would disagree with their Emergency News boycott to a Limbaugh show carrier.  I think that politicians too often forget that they are supposed to SERVE their communities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-3341845236587190157?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/3341845236587190157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=3341845236587190157' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/3341845236587190157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/3341845236587190157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/06/political-weather.html' title='Political Weather'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-4912648037185416513</id><published>2007-06-14T09:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T22:38:13.160-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pecans'/><title type='text'>Pecan Pie Anyone?</title><content type='html'>One winter day, when I was about 6 years old, I came home from school and the living and dining rooms of my family's house was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;full&lt;/span&gt; of boxes.  My Mom was crying.  My teenage brother and sister were busy helping Dad in the dining room.  I was excited to play with the boxes; I wanted to build a maze... Mom continued to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was going on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nearly Christmas time.  My dad heard some women at working talking about how they would like to make pecan pie, but sadly, the price of pecans was $5 per pound.  Too expensive!  My dad thought, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Hmmm...I love pecan pie!! I love saving money!...I wonder how I can get some affordable pecans for these nice ladies who just want to make Christmas pie?!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad worked for NSA (National Securtiy Agency) as a cryptanalyst.  He decrypted secret messages and helped to obtain information vital to our nation's security for nearly 40 years.  As you can imagine, he has a high IQ and connections.  So this challenge was no match for him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer?  It turns out that if you buy pecans by the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;TONS &lt;/span&gt;you can get them for $3 per pound.  Thats a steal when the grocer is selling them for $5 per pound!  He jumped right on this deal and spent&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; $14,000&lt;/span&gt; (not a typo) on pecans, hence the many tears shed by poor Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only is Dad smart, but he is also very altruistic.  His plan was to help the community out this Christmas Season by selling pecans for $3 per pound.  No need to make a profit.  He just wanted to make sure every family in Maryland had a pecan pie this holiday season!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boxes filled the house and my teenage brother and sister got to help dad weigh and fill 1lb bags of pecans by hand.  Saturdays were spent parked in grocery store parking lots, selling pecans from the station wagon tailgate. Ahhhh, good times, good times!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-4912648037185416513?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/4912648037185416513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=4912648037185416513' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/4912648037185416513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/4912648037185416513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/06/good-old-days.html' title='Pecan Pie Anyone?'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-8110390434952513011</id><published>2007-06-12T09:25:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T17:23:09.911-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='red hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no more redheads'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sadie'/><title type='text'>A Planet with No Red-Heads?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/Rm6ukJ-NnCI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KGmfZdlTosQ/s1600-h/Portrait+Innovations+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/Rm6ukJ-NnCI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KGmfZdlTosQ/s320/Portrait+Innovations+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075185766268509218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;ALARMING RESEARCH!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An article I read in the  &lt;a href="http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/living/2002266852_redhair09.html"&gt;Seattle Times&lt;/a&gt; today stated:&lt;br /&gt;"Dr. John Gray [from Oxford University] explain[s] his foundation's findings: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;'The way things are going, red hair will  either be extremely rare or extinct by the end of the century."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;YIKES!  A planet with no red-haired, pale skinned, rosey cheeked people!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:webdings;font-size:180%;"  &gt;Scary!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now only 4% of the world's population carry the red haired gene.  Only 2% have red hair.  The country with the most red heads is Scotland with 13% of the population being redheaded.  Ireland is second with 10% of the population with red hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes after my daughter, Sadie,  was born, the nurse who was cleaning her up announced, "She has red hair!"  I was very excited about this. I have always wanted a red-headed baby.  I was never surprised to have a red head; I have red-headed cousins and ancestors and my husband's grand-father had reddish hair.  People have always made comments to me like, "Where did she get that red hair?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I did a little internet research so I could explain it.  This is how I understand it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Red hair is a  recessive gene. Both the mother and the father would have to carry the red haired gene to have  red haired offspring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;If both parents have red hair they have a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;100%&lt;/span&gt; chance of having red haired children.  (I met a family in CA where the parents and all five of their children had varying shades of red hair.  Its quite striking).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If only one parent carries the gene, the child could be a carrier, but the child could not get red hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If one parent has red hair and the other carries the gene, they have a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;50%&lt;/span&gt; chance of having a red-haired child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Two non-red haired people who both carry the gene, have a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;25%&lt;/span&gt; chance of having a red-haired child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If one parent has red hair (or carries the gene) and the other parent doesn't carry the gene, then they have a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;0%&lt;/span&gt; chance of having a red haired child.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Sadie had a 25% chance of having red hair.  I am delighted she beat the odds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The red hair gene also "mixes" well with other hair color genes.  So the red hair gene can mix with the blond gene and you can have strawberry blond hair, or it can mix with brown and give you auburn hair.  As we have all observed, red-hair and fair skin nearly always go together, but there are exceptions.  A brunette, for example, that has really fair skin or a blond man who has a red beard are extremely likely to be red-haired gene carriers.  Red hair is caused by a MUTATED gene on chromosome 16 which causes a change in the protein that determines hair and skin color.  So red hair and pale, white skin are "MUTATIONS" of real? hair and skin color.  I love it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I am a brunette, I have some red highlighting in my hair.  I also have the pale white, sensitive skin that a red-head has.  Its funny to think that Sadie's hair and skin color is a "mutation."  I know that tan skin is popular, but personally I am partial to fair skin.  I think that white skin is beautiful.  Sadie's is.  Mine isn't anymore.  Because I have such sensitive, fair skin, I scar easily, burn easily and I have unflatteringly red cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow!  I just cannot imagine that the planet could really be redhairedless in just 93 years!  I read another &lt;a href="http://www.thetech.org/genetics/ask.php?id=144"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt; that better clarifies the scary prediction that&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; in less than a 100 years red heads will be extinct.  &lt;/span&gt;Basically, people didn't used to move very much.  Red haired gene carriers lived near each other and it was easy for them to marry and have children.  Today, people move a lot more.  Red haired gene carriers are moving away to areas where there are few other carriers and places where there are carriers, more non-carriers are moving in.  So the odds of two carriers, meeting and having offspring is getting smaller.  Oxford University believes that with this trend, soon red hair will be nearly extinct.  The red haired gene won't disappear, but it won't come out often because the number of carriers will continue to dwindle and the rate of two carriers getting together will get smaller and smaller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it.  I really enjoy educating my readers (all two of you) about the genetics of red hair.  Plus, I thought a Public Service Announcement about the extinction of carrot tops was quite urgent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-8110390434952513011?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/8110390434952513011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=8110390434952513011' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/8110390434952513011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/8110390434952513011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/06/world-with-no-red-heads.html' title='A Planet with No Red-Heads?'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Wll-6EPMU88/Rm6ukJ-NnCI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KGmfZdlTosQ/s72-c/Portrait+Innovations+010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-6608935348899809698</id><published>2007-06-11T16:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T21:39:15.715-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eliza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slide show'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adoption'/><title type='text'>It Was Love: Slide Show</title><content type='html'>I created this slide show as a way of remembering and showing gratitude for Eliza's birthmom, Amanda. David and I will always appreciate the sacrifice she made out of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=2b650dcc0561425edca5ce" quality="high" scale="noscale" wmode="transparent" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;p=2b650dcc0561425edca5ce&amp;amp;skin_id=1011&amp;amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" height="284" width="320"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6182507679282795462-6608935348899809698?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/6608935348899809698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=6608935348899809698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/6608935348899809698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/6608935348899809698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/06/it-was-love-slide-show.html' title='It Was Love: Slide Show'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-7085252645784384151</id><published>2007-06-11T16:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T19:40:57.393-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='miracle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eliza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adoption'/><title type='text'>Miracle: How Eliza joined our family.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“If you get this baby it will be a miracle, but we believe in miracles.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;-Caseworker Kevin Broderick&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I love adoptions stories.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I always have, even before I adopted a baby.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My husband, David, and I were blessed to have our daughter, Eliza Marie, come to our family through adoption.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Since I love to hear how other families adopted, I thought I’d write our adoption story.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I apologize that it is so long! Believe it or not, this is actually the concise version.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The first short version that I wrote for this blog was a 7 page long Microsoft Word document. My journal entry about it is 16 typed pages.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;David and I had been trying to have a baby for a little over a year.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I never expected this would be something we’d struggle with.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;David and I prayed and fasted often for a child.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We talked about how we would like to adopt if we continue to be unsuccessful with trying to conceive&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;In January of 2004, we were living in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Merced&lt;/st1:city&gt;,  &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;California&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. One evening after a Church program I began talking to Sister Black. She told me about a couple that she knows who adopted four kids.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She told me that they got all four of their babies because someone they knew recommended them to birthmothers they knew.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This really impressed me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 255);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;On my drive home from Church that night I thought about what Sis. Black told me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I committed then that I would get the word out that we would like to adopt. As soon as I returned home I told David about it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He thought it sounded great so he got started right away by calling his mom, Linda.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Unbeknownst to us, at this very same time, many miles away in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Alaska&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;, there was a young woman, Amanda, who had recently become pregnant.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her baby’s father had broken up their relationship and encouraged her to place the baby for adoption.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She did not believe that was something she could do.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Six months later…&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Its July 2004.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;David and I moved to &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Virginia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We lived with my parents for about one month while we waited to close on our new home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While there, we received a call one day from Linda. She told us that her sister, Donna has a friend who has a daughter who is pregnant and planning to place her baby for adoption.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Donna told her about us and she is considering us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She had heard about how my sister placed a baby for adoption a year and a half before and she liked that we could relate to her side of it&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I called LDS Family Services and made an appointment for David and I to meet with a case worker.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our caseworker was Kevin, which was neat because he had helped my sister, Melody, place her son for adoption.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At our meeting with Kevin, we told him all about this birthmother that we heard about from David’s mom, who heard it from her sister, who heard it from the birthmother’s mother in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Alaska&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We told Kevin that she is considering placing the baby with us and that she wants to use LDS Family Services and we need to get signed up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Kevin warned us that he has heard stories like this Many times and it usually doesn’t evolve into anything.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Kevin instructed us to write Amanda a letter and send her some pictures of us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The baby was due the next month, so Kevin gave us a big stack of papers to fill out and we scheduled our next appointment. There is something Kevin said, that stood out to me enough that I remember his exact words:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;" &gt;“If you get this baby, it will be a miracle…. But we believe in miracles.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Within a day or two we wrote Amanda a letter and sent some pictures to Donna to give to her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Writing that letter was SO HARD&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I felt like we were trying to sell ourselves.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wanted to be sensitive and compassionate and I was worried of saying the wrong thing that would eliminate us from consideration.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I constantly thought about this little baby.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had heard it was a girl and David and I would sit up in bed at night and talk about it almost every night.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We stayed up late trying to pick a name.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We knew it was a long shot that we would actually get her, but we couldn’t help daydreaming about it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One morning, David showed me a list he had made.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He said that after I fell asleep he stayed up and listed all the girls names he could think of.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then he went through the list and crossed out all the names he didn’t like.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He kept eliminating names until he was down to only ONE name, &lt;i style=""&gt;Eliza&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Well a couple of weeks went by since we sent Amanda our letter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We got a call one night from Linda saying that Amanda had narrowed it down to two couples and we were one of them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was really great news that she had even considered us this much!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Then one afternoon we get a call from Linda…Amanda chose us!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was so hard to believe!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was elated!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;David was elated!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Linda told us that Amanda wanted to know if we would let her choose the middle name.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She wanted the baby to have the same middle name as her, Marie.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We said, “SURE!!!”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wouldn’t have cared if she picked Helga for a middle name!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was so happy to be getting a baby!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Marie worked out great anyway because we were going to name her Eliza Mary.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Marie is French for Mary and it sounds better with Eliza anyway.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Amanda’s doctor scheduled an inducement. This baby was coming in 10 days and we were in the middle of moving into our new home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Kevin was coming in a couple of days to do our home study.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;David and I worked non-stop trying to get moved in and get our home presentable for Kevin.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Kevin was great!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The process of getting approved for adoption usually takes four to six months.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Under the circumstances, Kevin made every effort to complete our home study and paper work ASAP. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I flew out to &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Alaska&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; arriving on a Thursday morning. I met Amanda and her almost four year old daughter, Katie, her parents and her sister, Debbie that evening.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;They were all so great.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was so nervous to meet them. I am usually very friendly by nature and normally would have been very comfortable spending time with this nice family.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But- under these circumstances, I was nervous and quiet.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I worried that everything I said and did was going to be judged.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I could do the wrong thing and Amanda wouldn’t want me to raise her child.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I felt insecure and I knew I wasn’t being myself.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wanted them to see the happy, friendly, nice person that I am most of the time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They were great, however.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda invited me to go shopping with her and her sisters later that evening.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda picked out an outfit for Eliza to wear home from the hospital.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 255);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Amanda was gracious enough to invite me to see Eliza’s birth.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was hard to watch Amanda go through both the physical and emotional pain.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have always wanted to be a mother but I never pictured becoming one at the price of another woman’s suffering.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Eliza was born just after noon on Friday, Aug. 13, 2004.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I remember seeing her purpleish looking face for the first time and thinking that she was so beautiful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I actually didn’t expect to think that about a baby who had barely arrived.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I genuinely thought Eliza was so beautiful the moment I saw her and not in a fake romantic, artsy way.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Amanda let myself and her family hang around for a little while but then she requested some time alone with the baby.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I went out in the hall and went straight to the phone to call David and tell him the Great News, our daughter had arrived.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I also called both Grandmas to tell them.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 255);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Shortly after that, Debbie and David, Amanda’s father came out into the hallway.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They invited me to have lunch with them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;During our meal at the &lt;i style=""&gt;Subway, &lt;/i&gt;Debbie told me about how Amanda got to this point and how we got picked.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A few weeks later, Amanda also told me the story.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Amanda had been married and had Katie.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She and her husband divorced and she moved in with her parents.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She dated Art, and became pregnant with Eliza.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda’s parents encouraged her to place the baby for adoption.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda said there is no way she could do that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So she got an apartment of her own and moved out.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was pretty hard to make it completely on her own so she moved back in with her parents a few weeks later.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda REALLY wanted to keep Eliza but she just couldn’t.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Art didn’t want to be responsible either.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda told me the main thing that changed her mind was thinking about the father situation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Katie’s father loves her, pays his child support and he takes her to his home for two weeks annually. Amanda was afraid that Art would not be a father at all.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then Eliza would see that Katie has a dad but she doesn’t.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda wanted to give Eliza a father, so she started to consider adoption.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Amanda grew up with a girl named Christy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Christy and her husband live in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Utah&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; and they were trying to adopt a baby.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda decided for sure to place her baby.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She called Christy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Christy said that just the day before they had accepted a baby. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Then Amanda chose another couple from the files she had received from her case worker.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She soon learned that they were no longer available.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda began to wonder if it was some kind-of sign that she should keep the baby because the first two couples she chose couldn’t take the baby.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;She then picked another couple from the 200 internet profiles she viewed, Ben and Holly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda liked that both Holly and I had a sister who placed for adoption.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She said that Art came over and looked at the letter we emailed and the many online profiles as well.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Both Art and Amanda had independently narrowed it down to David and I and Ben and Holly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Art said he liked us as his first choice and Ben and Holly as his second but Amanda could pick.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Amanda had a hard time choosing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda wanted&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;to be sure before telling the couple.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the car on the way to visit her case worker, Amanda told her mom that she had chosen Ben and Holly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If they were unavailable, then David and I would be second choice.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;The case worker asked Amanda who she picked. Amanda told me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 40.5pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“David and Terry just came out of my mouth.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As soon as I said it, I knew that you were supposed to get this baby.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My mom asked me if I was sure because I had told her Ben and Holly in the car.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was sure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I knew it was meant to be.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;We so much regret that David didn’t come with me to &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Alaska&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; at that time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He had just started a new job with &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Petersburg&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;City&lt;/st1:placetype&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Schools&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; and the week Eliza was born, he was required to be at an orientation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We felt stuck.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He HAD to have this job to support our little family so he would have to miss this amazing event. We know now that David’s new boss was really nice and she may have helped him get out of the mandatory orientation under these unique circumstances.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We wish he could have been there for the birth too.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I stayed in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Alaska&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; at Aunt Donna’s house for seven weeks waiting for the background checks and inter-state baby moving permissions.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;During that time, David did come visit us over Labor Day Weekend.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He found that even though his time was so limited, I still hogged the baby.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I couldn’t help it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;From the time she was born, everyone told me I held her too much.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have never regretted that I did.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I waited so long for her. I feared I may never have another baby so I wanted to hold her all the time. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;During David’s visit, he was able to meet Amanda, Katie, and Debbie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 255);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Amanda invited me to stay the night with her in her hospital room with the baby.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was great because I had the opportunity to talk to her for a few hours and get to know her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was able to get up with Eliza during the night and take care of her.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The next day, when Eliza was 30 hours old, we prepared to leave the hospital.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda dressed Eliza and then strapped her into the car seat.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Toni and Aunt Donna parked their cars on the hospital curb.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda kissed Eliza good-bye.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She had tears running down her cheeks and she couldn’t really talk.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was crying, everyone was crying.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was so sad and&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;intense. Debbie put her arm around Amanda and walked her to their van.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was so thrilled to be taking Eliza home but I felt guilty about it at the same time because it hurt Amanda so much.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I clicked the car seat into the base.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wanted to sit in the back seat next to Eliza. I held onto the car seat and looked at her the whole way home.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The next day Amanda brought Art by the house to see Eliza.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He was a little nervous and quiet, but kind and polite.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda told me later that Art remarked to her as they left that he thought I would be a good mom.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was nice to hear that.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The day after that, Amanda and her family went to &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Utah&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; for a couple of weeks. When Amanda got back to town, she called me and invited me out to dinner.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;From there, we started to see each other almost everyday.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am so happy I had that time in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Alaska&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; with Amanda.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had five weeks to get to know her and her family.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I found that Amanda’s family and the family I grew up in actually share a lot of things in common.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Amanda and her family are part of my family now.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We are very much connected.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;It is so amazing to look back on these events and see how evident God's hand was in all of this. I know that God planned for Eliza to come to our family. It is awesome how He directed our actions and the actions of many others along the way to bless us so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Please check out &lt;a href="http://terriunknown.blogspot.com/2007/06/it-was-love-slide-show.html"&gt;this slide show&lt;/a&gt; about Eliza's adoption.  Its sweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/6182507679282795462-7085252645784384151?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/7085252645784384151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=7085252645784384151' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/7085252645784384151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/7085252645784384151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/06/miracle-how-eliza-joined-our-family.html' title='Miracle: How Eliza joined our family.'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6182507679282795462.post-4303124025974056018</id><published>2007-06-11T16:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T19:41:55.425-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><title type='text'>My Narcissistic List About Me</title><content type='html'>I really enjoy reading these lists on other people's blogs. I like to learn fun things about my friends. So, I decided to join in and make such a list too. However, I feel weird about it because its seems so &lt;a href="http://www.glennbeck.com/news/05302007.shtml"&gt;narcissistic&lt;/a&gt;; as if I assume others will even care. Not that you are interested, but now you can see how much of I dork I am. Plus it provides good material for my family to use to make fun of me! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;100 Things About Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I am very pretty.... Just kidding.  Just a little Narcissism humor for you.  Actually, I'm a mess.&lt;br /&gt;1. I wa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;s born with twelve fingers. Yes, the extras were removed.&lt;br /&gt;2. When I was little I thought that my dolls came to life when I wasn't looking, so I tried to be sneaky (by pretending to be asleep) and catch them playing together.&lt;br /&gt;3. I figured dolls and Santa Claus were alike, they both know when you're asleep.&lt;br /&gt;4. I am a member of &lt;a href="http://lds.org/"&gt;The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;5. I was baptized at age 7, because I was mature for my age...Just kidding. I was baptized at age 8 and when it was over I wished I could do it again.&lt;br /&gt;6. I was generally a well behaved, happy child. Yet, somehow at the same time I was mischievous.&lt;br /&gt;7. I planned and carried out tricks to play on my baby-sitters.&lt;br /&gt;8. I appreciate my Mormon Pioneer ancestors and the faith they had and the sacrifices they made to build The Church up in its early days.&lt;br /&gt;9 .My parents called me "Babes" when I was little. When I was about nine I demanded that I was not a baby so I did not want to be called that anymore.&lt;br /&gt;10. I enjoy practical jokes.&lt;br /&gt;11. I lived in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Maryland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; until I was almost nine.&lt;br /&gt;12. My family lived in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Utah&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; until I was 12. Then back to &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Maryland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; for one year.&lt;br /&gt;13. I spent my adolescent years in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Virginia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;14. I have three sisters and two brothers.&lt;br /&gt;15. I also have an additional three half sisters and three half brothers.&lt;br /&gt;16. I shared a room with my two little sisters throughout our teenage years.&lt;br /&gt;17. I wore braces for three years.&lt;br /&gt;18. I fell in love for the first time at age 17.&lt;br /&gt;19. My boyfriend went on his mission. We planned on getting married when he returned. I waited nine long months.&lt;br /&gt;20. I still laugh at myself for sending him bad homemade cookies and a recording of myself singing a Bryan Adams song, &lt;i&gt;"&lt;a href="http://artists.letssingit.com/bryan-adams-i-will-be-right-here-waiting-for-you-9x39343"&gt;I Will Be Right Here Waiting For You&lt;/a&gt;."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. I have since learned to bake pretty tasty chocolate chip cookies.&lt;br /&gt;22. My co-workers used to request what they named, "&lt;a href="http://www.well.com/user/vard/cookierecipe.html"&gt;TK's cookies&lt;/a&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;23. At age 18 I had a new boyfriend. He went on a mission too.&lt;br /&gt;24. This time I knew I wasn't too good at waiting so I didn't even try to wait even though I missed him.&lt;br /&gt;25. I got my first job at age 16 at a grocery store. I worked as a bagger and a bakery clerk.&lt;br /&gt;26. At age 16 I bought my first car; a 1988 gray Toyota Tercel, 5 speed, 2 door Lemon for $3,000.&lt;br /&gt;27. One of my very good friends from high school's dad used to call me "Clutch."&lt;br /&gt;28. I very much prefer driving a manual transmission car.&lt;br /&gt;29. I want my next car to be a mini-van. I am just disappointed I won't be able to drive a stick shift anymore because as far as I know, mini- vans only come with automatic transmissions.&lt;br /&gt;30. I like driving a lot and rarely feel any sort of road rage.&lt;br /&gt;31. I drove too fast as a teenager.&lt;br /&gt;32. I went five years without taking a sick day from work.&lt;br /&gt;33. I worked in banking for six years.&lt;br /&gt;34. I started off as a teller and with a little hard work, I was able to earn a few promotions and move up pretty quickly.&lt;br /&gt;35. My final title was Personal Banker. I was a loan officer and helped customers with a large assortment of financial needs.&lt;br /&gt;36. I loved my career at the bank and felt a lot of satisfaction with my accomplishments.&lt;br /&gt;37. I love my current job even more - Mommy to Eliza and Sadie.&lt;br /&gt;38. When I was young, my ideal job was weather reporter on the news.&lt;br /&gt;39. However, I never expected to be a career person because I always wanted to stay home and hold my babies.&lt;br /&gt;40. When I sleep, I sometimes get really angry and confrontational with people in my dreams in a way I would never do in real life.&lt;br /&gt;41. Over about the last decade or so, I have had a reoccurring frightening element to many of my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;42. The setting is different but I keep dreaming that I have gum in my mouth that I can't spit out. I can spit out some but I can never get rid of all of it. Gum is stuck in my mouth and its SCARY!!!!&lt;br /&gt;43. I like tall men.&lt;br /&gt;44. I met my husband at a dance. David was the first tall guy to ask me to dance.&lt;br /&gt;45. I only see out of one eye at a time.&lt;br /&gt;46. I didn't even know this until I was 25 and my eye doctor pointed it out. It was like a revelation to me.&lt;br /&gt;47. If I choose to use both eyes at the same time, I see doubles of everything and its blurred.&lt;br /&gt;48. I have two delightful daughters.&lt;br /&gt;49. My firstborn daughter, Eliza, now age two and a half, is a fun blond with big blue eyes and an energetic, gregarious personality.&lt;br /&gt;50. My husband and I were blessed with the amazing opportunity to adopt Eliza.&lt;br /&gt;51. I was lucky enough to see her be born and to be able to bring her home from Alaska Regional Hospital, where she was born when she was just 30 hours old.&lt;br /&gt;52. My second born daughter, Sadie, now 18 months old, is a red head and I love it!! She is sweet and easy-going and a big mommy's girl.&lt;br /&gt;53. I truly thought giving birth was fun...that is the POST-epidural part of it. It was easy; I didn't even break a sweat and I look forward to doing it again someday.&lt;br /&gt;54. I like discussing current events and politics. David and I do this a lot.&lt;br /&gt;55. I stay up too late at night talking to my husband.&lt;br /&gt;56. Nonetheless, I am a morning person.&lt;br /&gt;57. I have always loved babies, from my earliest memories on.&lt;br /&gt;58. I am very patriotic.&lt;br /&gt;59. I have four ancestors who came to America on the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mayflower &lt;/span&gt;and I think its awesome.&lt;br /&gt;60. I eat an apple almost everyday, usually with Eliza.&lt;br /&gt;61. I always notice when when someone in a public bathroom doesn't wash their hands after using the toilet. For this reason, even if I go into a stall to adjust my slip, for example, I still wash my hands so no one thinks I am one of those "non-handwashers." Ewwwwww.&lt;br /&gt;62. I really value good manners.&lt;br /&gt;63. I really like the house to be clean. I am not a clean freak but I wish I was.&lt;br /&gt;64. I make my bed every morning because I don't like to get into an unmade bed at night.&lt;br /&gt;65. I don't like clutter in the house, all though there always seems to be plenty of toys around now.&lt;br /&gt;66. I don't mind doing the dishes. I don't like to scrub the bath tub.&lt;br /&gt;67. I like to decorate for Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;68. I am very selective of what items are worth a sentimental value to me.&lt;br /&gt;69. I like to throw things away and get rid of them but my husbands likes to keep everything.&lt;br /&gt;70. For some silly reason the only thing I have trouble throwing away is my old clothes that I no longer fit in even though I am not too optimistic that I will be able to wear my high school sized clothes again.&lt;br /&gt;71. Its crazy; but I will get rid of them the next time I move.&lt;br /&gt;72. I like to scrapbook.&lt;br /&gt;73. I rarely read fiction books because I feel like when I spend time reading, it should educate me in some way.&lt;br /&gt;74. I don't hold the same standard to the time I spend watching tv.&lt;br /&gt;75. I look forward to watching &lt;a href="http://www.fox.com/24/"&gt;&lt;i&gt;24&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt; every Monday night and &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/The_Office/"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Office&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt; every Thursday night.&lt;br /&gt;76. Now that I have it, I would find it hard to go without my DVR, so I can watch my favorite shows anytime and without commercials.&lt;br /&gt;77. I think I may be getting old because I prefer AM talk radio to listening to music on FM stations.&lt;br /&gt;78. My favorite radio show is &lt;a href="http://www.glennbeck.com/home/index.shtml"&gt;Glen Beck&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;79. I only listen to him if he's on while I'm driving. I wish I could "DVR" his radio show so I could listen at my convenience.&lt;br /&gt;80. I actually kind-of enjoying watching "&lt;a href="http://www.thewiggles.com/us/home/"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Wiggles&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;" with my daughters.&lt;br /&gt;81. According to &lt;a href="http://www.thecolorcode.com/"&gt;Dr. Taylor Hartman's, The Color Code Personality Test&lt;/a&gt;, I am a blue-yellow.&lt;br /&gt;82. My dad, Billy Moore, was a professional duckpin bowler and bowled on a tv show called, "Beat The Champ." He also decrypted secret messages for The &lt;b&gt;N&lt;/b&gt;ational &lt;b&gt;S&lt;/b&gt;ecurity &lt;b&gt;A&lt;/b&gt;gency.&lt;br /&gt;83. My great-grandfather, Reuben Law, was the first President of &lt;a href="http://www.byuh.edu/about/past_presidents.php"&gt;Brigham Young University (BYU), Hawaii&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.byuh.edu/about/past_presidents.php"&gt;.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;84. Yeah, I mentioned the accomplishments of my ancestors because I haven't done anything extra ordinary myself.&lt;br /&gt;85. I have been on tv many times (that is if reruns of the same program counts as "many" times).&lt;br /&gt;86. I was in the back round when BYU students filmed an Emmy winning documentary featuring my grandmother, Zola Law Ash, called "&lt;a href="http://www.ldsvideo.com/index.asp?PageAction=VIEWPROD&amp;ProdID=60"&gt;Brides on the Homefront&lt;/a&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;87. I do a great deal of my shopping online. If I can't buy it at Super Wal-Mart, I'll probably go online to buy it.&lt;br /&gt;88. I love to find deals on ebay.&lt;br /&gt;89. I am addicted to chapstick.&lt;br /&gt;90. My pet peve, if you will, is when I hear &lt;a href="http://www.fairwiki.org/index.php/Rumors,_hoaxes,_and_urban_legends#Boyd_K._Packer:_those_who_lived_in_President_Hinckley.27s_time_will_be_bowed_to"&gt;this popular folklore&lt;/a&gt; story thats been circulating for years.... Seriously, why would people like the Mormon Pioneers or Moses's or Nephi's people need to reverence me?!!!&lt;br /&gt;91. I appreciate a good handshake.&lt;br /&gt;92. I love the fresh smell of cucumbers.&lt;br /&gt;93. I have to clean the kitchen before I can start cooking. I have tried to cook without doing the dishes first when I was in a hurry and I uncomfortable. I need to be able to load the dishwasher with dirty items as I go so that my counter tops don't get too crowded.&lt;br /&gt;94. I love to lay down in freshly washed sheets that smell like fabric softener.&lt;br /&gt;95. I don't want to spoil my kids too much for their sakes. I want them to be self-sufficient young adults who can feel the satisfaction of accomplishment and independence.&lt;br /&gt;96. For example, I want my kids to pay for at least a portion of their own car and college, and if applicable, missions. I believe they'd appreciate and take better care of their car, and work harder in school if they paid the price for those privileges.&lt;br /&gt;97. Sounds mean, huh? Fortunately for my daughters, my husband disagrees with me.&lt;br /&gt;98. However, I am doubtful that I will stick to this plan if I can afford not to stick to it.&lt;br /&gt;99. For the time being I will just enjoy my little ones and hope they don't grow up too fast.&lt;br /&gt;100. My husband and I plan on moving out West again someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you actually read the whole list,  Wow... you are so sweet!  You tried to care.  Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you like to know how narcissistic you are?  Here is the &lt;a href="http://www.glennbeck.com/news/05302007.shtml"&gt;test&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;actually used to diagnose Narcissistic Disorder.&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/6182507679282795462-4303124025974056018?l=terrysotherside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/feeds/4303124025974056018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6182507679282795462&amp;postID=4303124025974056018' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/4303124025974056018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6182507679282795462/posts/default/4303124025974056018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://terrysotherside.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-narcissistic-list-about-me.html' title='My Narcissistic List About Me'/><author><name>Terry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://www.johnqcasual.com/terry.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
