<?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-7471731729771785446</id><updated>2011-07-07T19:18:56.067-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Petty Life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>57</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-647877473336261532</id><published>2009-08-20T13:25:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T23:27:27.498-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Surgery Time -- Baby Day Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Finally, they took me back into the operating room and began he prep work. They said Chris had to wait until it was time for surgery before he could come in. The anesthesiologist came in to give me my spinal. He had me sit on the surgery table with one leg on either side dangling and said to just relax. Since Chris couldn't come in yet, the nurse was so nice, she sat next to me and held both my hands and helped keep me calm. He said to hold really still and that if I feel a tingle or have the urge to move or flinch, not to! Yeah...Easier said than done! When he started to insert the needle, it hit a nerve and caused my leg to fling up at the knee. He says to me..."That is what I was talking about, I told you not to move!" I wanted to say to him, have you ever had a spinal? Do you think I have any control when you hit a little nerve and cause my reflexes to flinch? He wasn't mad, he just really needed me to sit still, so two nurses came over and held both my legs down. It was all done and I started to feel the cement legs. Then they prepped my belly and were just about ready to get Chris when my nose itched, so...I itched it. In doing so, I moved my blanket and it rubbed across my stomach, so they had to re-start the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sanitizing&lt;/span&gt; process. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ooops&lt;/span&gt;! Finally Chris was able to come in with me. I was so excited to see him. We were not allowed to take any pictures or video of the c-section until it was time for baby to come out. We found that out the hard way when we were reprimanded. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ooops&lt;/span&gt; Again! Chris decided to take pictures of me instead to help pass time. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Laying here having a baby is exhausting...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;JK&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TA8Wcd-QsPI/AAAAAAAAAec/4kThDlqvr24/s1600/Ryker+023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480623949871100146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TA8Wcd-QsPI/AAAAAAAAAec/4kThDlqvr24/s320/Ryker+023.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Me and Chris waiting for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; man to come out.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TA8Wb22VibI/AAAAAAAAAeU/uEBsOwUUhr0/s1600/Ryker+025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480623939368880562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TA8Wb22VibI/AAAAAAAAAeU/uEBsOwUUhr0/s320/Ryker+025.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Chris taking a self portrait.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TA8WbE7e0SI/AAAAAAAAAeM/TOKXRAiG1LE/s1600/Ryker+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480623925968687394" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TA8WbE7e0SI/AAAAAAAAAeM/TOKXRAiG1LE/s320/Ryker+026.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A few minutes before we get to meet our baby!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TA8WausmQiI/AAAAAAAAAeE/-121GdVvM4s/s1600/Ryker+027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480623920000680482" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TA8WausmQiI/AAAAAAAAAeE/-121GdVvM4s/s320/Ryker+027.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Since Chris could see what was going on and I couldn't, I kept asking him, what are they doing? What about now? Is it time? Now What? Finally the Dr. said. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; get your camera ready, it's just about time...Here comes Baby!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-647877473336261532?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/647877473336261532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=647877473336261532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/647877473336261532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/647877473336261532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/surgery-time-baby-day-part-2.html' title='Surgery Time -- Baby Day Part 2'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TA8Wcd-QsPI/AAAAAAAAAec/4kThDlqvr24/s72-c/Ryker+023.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-9175241573821003251</id><published>2009-08-20T11:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T23:11:40.962-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Ready -- Baby Day Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;It's baby time!  I was up all night freaking out that we were having a baby and that I was going to have surgery.  So after barely any sleep, we arrived at the hospital at 10am.  My surgery was scheduled at 12am.  They nurse started all of the monitors and IV and took blood samples.  She wasn't very clean about it and blood squirted all over and was dripping all over the floor.  Luckily I wasn't watching her do it, I would have passed out for sure!  The C-section before me ran late and so they pushed my out to 1pm, so I had to sit and wait even longer.  Thank goodness Chris was able to hang out with me in the room.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Waiting to get my IV...So Excited!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXOgQYPnI/AAAAAAAAAc0/i6EKXdCzFcs/s1600/Ryker+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477669322221960818" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXOgQYPnI/AAAAAAAAAc0/i6EKXdCzFcs/s320/Ryker+010.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Chris keeping me company.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXORkGkfI/AAAAAAAAAcs/IEBHXKckNiI/s1600/Ryker+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477669318278156786" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXORkGkfI/AAAAAAAAAcs/IEBHXKckNiI/s320/Ryker+014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Kissing is always a great way to pass time!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXN7H59vI/AAAAAAAAAck/kL2Un1cBLbY/s1600/Ryker+017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477669312254310130" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXN7H59vI/AAAAAAAAAck/kL2Un1cBLbY/s320/Ryker+017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's almost time...Chris getting ready!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXNhVzRQI/AAAAAAAAAcc/Lw_u1AFmPIQ/s1600/Ryker+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477669305333269762" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXNhVzRQI/AAAAAAAAAcc/Lw_u1AFmPIQ/s320/Ryker+020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; All ready to go.  He looks so HOT!!!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXNNYaGCI/AAAAAAAAAcU/kpvOj-ttlSk/s1600/Ryker+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477669299975493666" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXNNYaGCI/AAAAAAAAAcU/kpvOj-ttlSk/s320/Ryker+021.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Finally just after 1pm, they took me back to the OR and told Chris they would come get him when it was time.  Mom and Cassi were in the waiting room, so he quickly went to see them and to get a quick bite to eat before surgery time.  See you soon love...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-9175241573821003251?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9175241573821003251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=9175241573821003251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/9175241573821003251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/9175241573821003251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/getting-ready-baby-day-part-1.html' title='Getting Ready -- Baby Day Part 1'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/TASXOgQYPnI/AAAAAAAAAc0/i6EKXdCzFcs/s72-c/Ryker+010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-2402677480879357112</id><published>2009-08-18T22:38:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T01:25:11.272-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Anniversary</title><content type='html'>Today is our 3 year anniversary and I am &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; in love! Chris is the absolute love of my life and I couldn't have asked for anything more. He puts up with my crazy moods and does the sweetest things for me all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we are having a baby TOMORROW, we decided to say at the Silver Cloud Inn on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ruston&lt;/span&gt; Way in Tacoma. We thought it would be a nice relaxing get a away before the craziness of a baby. The staff was so cute when we checked in, they upgraded our room for free and put a Happy Anniversary card in our room. They asked me "When are you due?" When I replied "Tomorrow" they were shocked. I guess most people &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; stay in a hotel to celebrate their anniversary the night before they have a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Chris and I before we went to dinner at the RAM&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475470664843286930" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_zHjzQOWZI/AAAAAAAAAa0/cXll0h7lW7s/s320/anniversary+057.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; Dinner at the RAM&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_zHkt_KqCI/AAAAAAAAAbE/9-W95fbK2uk/s1600/081809+anniversary.jpg"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475470680609433634" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_zHkt_KqCI/AAAAAAAAAbE/9-W95fbK2uk/s320/081809+anniversary.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After dinner, we came back to the hotel. I had been wanting to make a belly cast before I had the baby, so being that this was our last night, that is what we did. Chris had a lot of fun putting all of the molding strips on my belly (and chest). I had to stand still for the 20 minutes it took him to put them on and then another 15 minutes while it dried.  I was going crazy.  It was the messiest thing ever and we probably shouldn't have done it in a hotel room.  I would post a picture, but I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know if that is appropriate. Maybe when its dried and I paint and decorate it I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, its my anniversary and my patient husband is sitting here while I blog, so I better enjoy the night with him. We have to be at the hospital at 10am tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-2402677480879357112?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2402677480879357112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=2402677480879357112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2402677480879357112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2402677480879357112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/our-anniversary.html' title='Our Anniversary'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_zHjzQOWZI/AAAAAAAAAa0/cXll0h7lW7s/s72-c/anniversary+057.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-2884182932510993809</id><published>2009-08-15T22:24:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T00:44:34.956-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Here Comes Baby</title><content type='html'>I had my last doctors apt yesterday.  I scheduled the C-Section with my doctor for next Wednesday the 26&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.  I am so excited to know that it is finally time for him to come out!  But after Chris got home from work, he told me that he was being sent to a school in North Carolina for 10 days and he would be leaving on the 22&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;.  Totally &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;panicked&lt;/span&gt; that he was going to miss the birth of our baby.  I called my doctors office and being that it was after hours and the weekend, I left a long message basically begging and pleading to move it up, at least to the 21st so Chris could be there.  Today the nurse called me back and said my doctor would be on call at the hospital on Wednesday the 19&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and there was an opening for my delivery.  She must have heard the desperation in my voice and decided to call me back even on a Saurday.  After thanking her a million times, I took a deep breath and let out a huge sigh of relief.  I told Chris and he was so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;excited&lt;/span&gt;, because now he will be there for the birth and will be able to take me home from the hospital.  It will be the day after our anniversary, but we will take it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now I am starting to freak out, because I'm having this baby in 3 days!!!  I have everything ready, but I'm sill stressing.  I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;better&lt;/span&gt; get some sleep before I worry myself sick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-2884182932510993809?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2884182932510993809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=2884182932510993809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2884182932510993809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2884182932510993809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/here-comes-baby.html' title='Here Comes Baby'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-8081795466790304541</id><published>2009-08-14T10:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T00:44:43.200-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Belly Picture Catch Up #2</title><content type='html'>Here are the past few weeks of belly photos to catch up from the last post at 25 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;26 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475086231324733778" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tp60y-MVI/AAAAAAAAAXc/7_EyfW-WW7M/s320/26.5+weeks-a.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;27 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475086238914927634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tp7REnXBI/AAAAAAAAAXk/3uKk5WUt85c/s320/27+weeks-f.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;28 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 335px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 307px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475086248323640770" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tp70H07cI/AAAAAAAAAXs/in2Q0djBlck/s320/28+weeks-d.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;29 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475086254229923218" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tp8KH_pZI/AAAAAAAAAX0/aB77G07Mt6c/s320/29+weeks-d.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;30 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tp8gEzPMI/AAAAAAAAAX8/z727WVXCFUg/s1600/30+weeks-c.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475086260122107074" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tp8gEzPMI/AAAAAAAAAX8/z727WVXCFUg/s320/30+weeks-c.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 31 WEEKS &lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tr6fEn01I/AAAAAAAAAYk/yyGfoV-Ww2Y/s1600/31+weeks-c.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475088424516440914" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tr6fEn01I/AAAAAAAAAYk/yyGfoV-Ww2Y/s320/31+weeks-c.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 33 WEEKS (missed 32 weeks)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tr53xh4WI/AAAAAAAAAYc/dk178EmtADo/s1600/33+weeks-a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 303px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475088413967376738" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tr53xh4WI/AAAAAAAAAYc/dk178EmtADo/s320/33+weeks-a.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 34 WEEKS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tr5qXMXLI/AAAAAAAAAYU/8ahuWCpNHU8/s1600/34+weeks-a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475088410367253682" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tr5qXMXLI/AAAAAAAAAYU/8ahuWCpNHU8/s320/34+weeks-a.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 35 WEEKS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tr5JFcNpI/AAAAAAAAAYM/knWqhAYA2wo/s1600/35+weeks-c.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475088401434424978" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tr5JFcNpI/AAAAAAAAAYM/knWqhAYA2wo/s320/35+weeks-c.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;36 WEEKS &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tsow23MBI/AAAAAAAAAY8/Dk03c3M4c1w/s1600/36+weeks-d.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475089219564548114" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tsow23MBI/AAAAAAAAAY8/Dk03c3M4c1w/s320/36+weeks-d.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 37 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tsoV9dL8I/AAAAAAAAAY0/TYVVl-BWk5M/s1600/37+weeks-b.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 263px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475089212344446914" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tsoV9dL8I/AAAAAAAAAY0/TYVVl-BWk5M/s320/37+weeks-b.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 38 WEEKS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tsn1BeAEI/AAAAAAAAAYs/J6t7YkncG8s/s1600/38+weeks-d.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 292px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475089203502907458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tsn1BeAEI/AAAAAAAAAYs/J6t7YkncG8s/s320/38+weeks-d.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ALMOST TIME FOR BABY!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-8081795466790304541?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8081795466790304541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=8081795466790304541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/8081795466790304541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/8081795466790304541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/belly-picture-catch-up-2.html' title='Belly Picture Catch Up #2'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tp60y-MVI/AAAAAAAAAXc/7_EyfW-WW7M/s72-c/26.5+weeks-a.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-6420022713274637987</id><published>2009-08-08T14:14:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T00:25:37.485-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nursery</title><content type='html'>After stripping wall paper, painting, setting up crib and changing table, and decorating ...the nursery is finally ready! I never knew how hard it was to strip wallpaper, but I now know I will never wallpaper anything in my house. Decorating the nursery was a lot more work than I expected, but it turned out so good, it was all worth it. Thanks to dad and Cassi helping to paint, I was able to get it done before baby comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Nursery&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475267989881901858" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_wPOkL6UyI/AAAAAAAAAZc/Qj7RDolE7VA/s320/Nursery+021.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Changing Table--I still need a pad cover&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475268027333377826" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_wPQvtCfyI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/PSyOmaRyb6I/s320/Nursery+017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Car Seat and Stroller are all ready to go!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475268015198383490" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_wPQCf1LYI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/PLjNRm3cgbA/s320/Nursery+018.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Bedding&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475268007707868050" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_wPPml8-5I/AAAAAAAAAZs/oPXGLCRWiBI/s320/Nursery+020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The curtains&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475459851269232066" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_y9uXjQ1cI/AAAAAAAAAaE/2KoZwUR93Dw/s320/Nursery+011.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I painted the dresser to match the room&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_wPPN-UxeI/AAAAAAAAAZk/Y0mm89ES9VE/s1600/nursery+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475268001099204066" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_wPPN-UxeI/AAAAAAAAAZk/Y0mm89ES9VE/s320/nursery+005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-6420022713274637987?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6420022713274637987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=6420022713274637987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6420022713274637987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6420022713274637987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/nursery.html' title='Nursery'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_wPOkL6UyI/AAAAAAAAAZc/Qj7RDolE7VA/s72-c/Nursery+021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-4383906072181641717</id><published>2009-08-02T12:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T01:20:00.332-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ranger Ball</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Friday was the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;annual&lt;/span&gt; Ranger Ball. Being that I am 7 months pregnant, Chris and I originally decided not to go. Last minute Chris was told that he had to do the color &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;guard&lt;/span&gt; at the ball. He called me from work on Wednesday afternoon to let me know that I needed to get a dress and get everything ready for the ball on Friday. I called my mom and she met me at the super mall that night to shop for a formal dress that would fit a 7 month pregnant chick. After hours of shopping, we finally found a formal dress at Motherhood Maternity. I was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; lucky, because Motherhood does not carry formal dresses in the stores, only online, but someone had bought it online and then returned it to the store. It fit almost perfectly. I just had to tighten the shoulder straps and I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;swapped&lt;/span&gt; out a plain black plastic clip on the front with a rhinestone broach to make it look a little more formal. Thanks to Amie...we got the dress altered and I was ready to go. Thursday I got a spray tan to give me a little color, got my toes and nails done, and made a hair apt. Friday came around and it was time to go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Chris and I before the ball.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475097639599026306" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_t0S37hMII/AAAAAAAAAZE/Q9CHOuw2cOY/s320/Ranger+Ball+004.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; I was feeling VERY pregnant about now!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475097647919958978" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_t0TW7Yi8I/AAAAAAAAAZM/MpI3CGju23o/s320/Ranger+Ball+005.JPG" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;One of our formal pictures taken at the Ball.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_t0T_3lK5I/AAAAAAAAAZU/m3qMrz_mRsY/s1600/Ranger+Ball+042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475097658909862802" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_t0T_3lK5I/AAAAAAAAAZU/m3qMrz_mRsY/s320/Ranger+Ball+042.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I had a great time meeting all of his friends and their wives. Maybe next year I will have a little more than 2 days to prepare and wont be 7 months pregnant!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-4383906072181641717?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4383906072181641717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=4383906072181641717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4383906072181641717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4383906072181641717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/ranger-ball.html' title='Ranger Ball'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_t0S37hMII/AAAAAAAAAZE/Q9CHOuw2cOY/s72-c/Ranger+Ball+004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-7476667348248036830</id><published>2009-06-23T13:59:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T23:57:33.284-06:00</updated><title type='text'>South Carolina</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;After Chris' deployment, he got two weeks of vacation, so we decided to go to South Carolina to visit his family. We flew out Friday morning and were there for almost two weeks. We rented a condo at the beach with his sister and brother in law. Here is a photo recap of the vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Chris when we first got to the beach condo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475070008164234354" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tbKg0GNHI/AAAAAAAAAVs/5J4MidDYLxI/s320/SC+Trip+005.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Me at the condo...6 1/2 months pregnant!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475070001563679474" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tbKIOZuvI/AAAAAAAAAVk/dLWExl2zulQ/s320/SC+Trip+006.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Playing games at the arcade on the pier.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475075048142904002" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tfv4MpmsI/AAAAAAAAAXM/AVTVOUe_NTs/s320/SC+Trip+091.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;I didnt' win, but I sure tried...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475075037562657810" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tfvQyH3BI/AAAAAAAAAXE/aM7Hw49xrVU/s320/SC+Trip+085.JPG" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;Enjoying a night out on the windy pier&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475075028868250706" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tfuwZNvFI/AAAAAAAAAW8/8Gybu_HVhkU/s320/SC+Trip+073.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Outside a burger joint at the waterfront.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475075022263343842" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tfuXye2uI/AAAAAAAAAW0/qb7uFbmduUM/s320/SC+Trip+069.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Chris and Grandad Petty (first time I met him)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475075058003488162" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tfwc7mLaI/AAAAAAAAAXU/6tej8pX746E/s320/SC+Trip+007.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Dinner at Medieval Times. We were the Red Knights!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475072413302624898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tdWgpxkoI/AAAAAAAAAWc/XlNpMfwK1hM/s320/SC+Trip+025.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Medieval Games&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475072432312368290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tdXneDPKI/AAAAAAAAAWs/n0oPmQfyMs0/s320/SC+Trip+046.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Knights fighting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tdXHHPDII/AAAAAAAAAWk/TAcdfIhJnkY/s1600/SC+Trip+050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475072423626738818" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tdXHHPDII/AAAAAAAAAWk/TAcdfIhJnkY/s320/S%3Cspan%20class=" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;Playing at the beach...we burried Chris in the sand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475070017835073154" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tbLE1zfoI/AAAAAAAAAV0/HAL8-eWfKGw/s320/SC+Trip+014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He climbed out like a monster and scared Tanner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475070026928236866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tbLmtyKUI/AAAAAAAAAV8/jgHSd7iArFY/s320/SC+Trip+015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Too much time at the pool and beach!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475072399283992466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tdVsbeN5I/AAAAAAAAAWM/3MmfCvpaFYI/s320/SC+Trip+064.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ouch...Southern Sun!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tdWPAt4FI/AAAAAAAAAWU/SH-_Rvq2rrw/s1600/SC+Trip+065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475072408567013458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tdWPAt4FI/AAAAAAAAAWU/SH-_Rvq2rrw/s320/SC+Trip+065.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Chris got burned too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tbMOrFkZI/AAAAAAAAAWE/LBePqg7whtQ/s1600/SC+Trip+062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475070037654344082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tbMOrFkZI/AAAAAAAAAWE/LBePqg7whtQ/s320/SC+Trip+062.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As you can see...we had a ton of fun!!! We were there for my birthday too, so his family threw me a surprise party with a yummy ice cream cake. After a long hot vacation and burnt to a crisp...we headed home! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-7476667348248036830?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7476667348248036830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=7476667348248036830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7476667348248036830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7476667348248036830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/south-carolina.html' title='South Carolina'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_tbKg0GNHI/AAAAAAAAAVs/5J4MidDYLxI/s72-c/SC+Trip+005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-8875194837289252880</id><published>2009-05-22T23:14:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T22:53:06.095-06:00</updated><title type='text'>He's Home!!!</title><content type='html'>I was able to pick up my honey yesterday. It was so NOT what I was expecting. I had imagined some scene out of a movie or something. I thought I would go out to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;tarmac&lt;/span&gt; and would be waiting for him to step off the plane and we would run to each other and hug and kiss. It was totally the opposite...when I arrived, I was told to sit in a waiting room and that when the bus arrived from the air force base they would come get me. Another wife arrived, so the two of us waited for about an hour. We heard a bunch of noise out in the hallway, so we poked our heads out and saw the guys coming in...they forgot to come get us!!! Just as I started to walk down the hall towards the guys, I saw Chris walk around the corner. He didn't see me, so I yelled...CHRIS! He turned and saw me and ran over and gave me a big hug! It was the best hug ever! After a quick hello, he had to leave to go turn in his gear and get signed out. I went out to the truck to wait for him. 30 minutes passed...an hour passed...have to pee...another 30 minutes...2 hours...really have to pee...two and half hours...starting to hurt really bad...3 hours later he was finally released and we were able to go home! I would have went inside to use the bathroom, but they only have a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;men's&lt;/span&gt; bathroom, so really there was no place for me to go. Long day, but I'm glad he's home!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-8875194837289252880?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8875194837289252880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=8875194837289252880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/8875194837289252880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/8875194837289252880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/hes-home.html' title='He&apos;s Home!!!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-4371578602580273729</id><published>2009-05-21T14:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T13:58:51.406-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you think he'll notice?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This morning I got a call to let me know I get to pick up my hubby today.  I am so excited, yet so nervous at the same time.  He left when I was 6 or 7 weeks pregnant and I didn't even have a baby bump and now he's coming home to this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;25 WEEKS &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472327247879155618" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_Gco2iHL6I/AAAAAAAAAUk/v-X3glABjy0/s320/25+weeks-a.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Do you think he'll notice?  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Even though I have an excuse for the extra weight I have gained and I get to walk around with my belly stickin out instead of sucking in, I still want to feel pretty and sexy for my husband who I haven't seen in almost 4 months.  I guess all I can do at this point is get my hair done and buy a new maternity outfit and try to look hot.  Wish me luck tonight!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-4371578602580273729?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4371578602580273729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=4371578602580273729' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4371578602580273729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4371578602580273729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/do-you-think-hell-notice.html' title='Do you think he&apos;ll notice?'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_Gco2iHL6I/AAAAAAAAAUk/v-X3glABjy0/s72-c/25+weeks-a.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-4560306045608891834</id><published>2009-05-11T22:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T13:39:25.814-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Flies...</title><content type='html'>...When your Pregant! It's already May and it's time for my hubby to come home! I am so excited. When he left, I swore this day was never going to come. I am not sure when he will be home, but I know it's sometime towards the end of the month.  I am heading back to Washington on the 15th to make sure I am home in time.  I had left my car here when Chris and I moved all our stuff to WA, because I knew I would be coming back here to work. But now, since we are having a baby and I know I will be in Washington for a lot longer this time, I will be driving my car back.  Mom is flying here to drive back with me.  So again...time to pack!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-4560306045608891834?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4560306045608891834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=4560306045608891834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4560306045608891834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4560306045608891834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/time-flies.html' title='Time Flies...'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-6621350391549766807</id><published>2009-05-02T12:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T13:31:02.567-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Utah Baby Shower</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yesterday Suzanne threw me a baby shower in Utah before I left. It was so thoughtful of her! The invitations were super cute and everything at the shower was so nice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She served lunch and it was so yummy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472307981971345570" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GLHbbv0KI/AAAAAAAAAUM/cULlf2sHw7k/s320/5-19-09+015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;It was a cake made of cupcakes...so good! &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472307970951136898" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GLGyYUxoI/AAAAAAAAAUE/SaGvCgTkF24/s320/5-19-09+014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I got tons of awesome presents from everyone. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472307988340939314" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GLHzKYGjI/AAAAAAAAAUU/PkYUrphnWvo/s320/5-19-09+020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I never knew boy stuff could be so cute too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472307996864359618" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GLIS6hLMI/AAAAAAAAAUc/HgAEbfeyMp8/s320/5-19-09+032.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The funniest part of the shower was when I was reading a card from one of my co-workers and it said something like "Congratulations on your new Son"  I looked up with this scared look on my face and said "Son...I'm having a SON!?!?"  It hit me that he was going to be my 'SON'.  I had never thought of it that way.  I mean I knew I was having a baby and that it was a boy, but the word son just scared me for some reason.  Maybe because I associate a SON with a boy who gets into lots of trouble or who gives mommy a hard time.  Maybe because it meant I had to be a MOTHER instead of a MOMMY.  Sons need mothers and babies and boys need mommies.  To say i'm haveing a baby or it's a boy sounds so much nicer and so much more innocent.  I'm sure when the time comes to call him my son, I will be over the fear...until then lets just refer to him as my baby boy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-6621350391549766807?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6621350391549766807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=6621350391549766807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6621350391549766807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6621350391549766807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/utah-baby-shower.html' title='Utah Baby Shower'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GLHbbv0KI/AAAAAAAAAUM/cULlf2sHw7k/s72-c/5-19-09+015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-4127212704022227720</id><published>2009-05-01T21:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T12:15:52.091-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Belly Picture Catch Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since I haven't posted any belly pictures other than the first ones, here is a little catch up week by week...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;15 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472297323662214466" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GBbCI1BUI/AAAAAAAAAS0/6FwLFebJr6c/s320/15+weeks-a.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;16 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472297338667012626" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GBb6CQEhI/AAAAAAAAAS8/TzmF3DjihTg/s320/16+weeks-e.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;17 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472297348668457218" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GBcfSyAQI/AAAAAAAAATE/8tL3eAu2Jt8/s320/17+weeks-c.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;18 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472297355285684530" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GBc38c4TI/AAAAAAAAATM/F7zJ5xH3txQ/s320/18+weeks-f.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;19 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472297365433922226" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GBddv-srI/AAAAAAAAATU/4SOojueXMCk/s320/19+weeks-a.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;20 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472301554236759170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GFRSQZnII/AAAAAAAAATc/y_ticCmhMTs/s320/20+weeks-b.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;21 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472301573926718930" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GFSbm2jdI/AAAAAAAAATs/6ZesNbGGsLc/s320/21.5+weeks-r.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;22 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472301582950774354" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GFS9OWtlI/AAAAAAAAAT0/Kaqb4I8spxY/s320/22.5+weeks-f.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;23 WEEKS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472301587418984274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GFTN3qL1I/AAAAAAAAAT8/Y6Qw1l02eAE/s320/23+weeks-e.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-4127212704022227720?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4127212704022227720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=4127212704022227720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4127212704022227720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4127212704022227720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/belly-picture-catch-up.html' title='Belly Picture Catch Up'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GBbCI1BUI/AAAAAAAAAS0/6FwLFebJr6c/s72-c/15+weeks-a.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-1739546895568175278</id><published>2009-02-28T10:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T11:20:55.889-06:00</updated><title type='text'>First Belly Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Well, Chris made it off ok and YES I was a blubbering baby when he left. Now I am back in Utah and living with my sister and her family again while I work. I have been super busy moving in and unpacking and adjusting back to work. Chris has called a few times and I love hearing from him. Even though he always calls me in the middle of the night when I am sleeping, it's comforting to talk to him and know that he is ok. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I thought I should send Chris a few pictures of his wife's baby bump, so he's not shocked when he comes home. Sadie was so nice to be my lovely photographer...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472286301548204098" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_F3ZdkEUEI/AAAAAAAAASs/Zc7Vs1JCMc4/s320/14+weeks-a.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;13 WEEKS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472286290021825586" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_F3Yyn9vDI/AAAAAAAAASk/wZYqT6C_W3U/s320/14+weeks-b.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-1739546895568175278?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1739546895568175278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=1739546895568175278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1739546895568175278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1739546895568175278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/first-belly-pics.html' title='First Belly Pics'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_F3ZdkEUEI/AAAAAAAAASs/Zc7Vs1JCMc4/s72-c/14+weeks-a.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-9222032636046540940</id><published>2009-02-26T11:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T15:35:58.245-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on Chris</title><content type='html'>This is Chris' first deployment, which means it is my first deployment as an Army wife as well. I am learning that I dont get to hear from him very often and when I do, it is in the middle of the night and he only get a few minutes to call. I am always anxious to hear from him and I worry when I have not heard from him in more than a week. He has only been gone a month, but it is still hard everyday worrying about him, not knowing where he is or what he is doing. When we do talk, it is difficult, because there is so much that he can not say and so much that I can not ask. When I ask something as simple as what time is it there or what did you do today? His simple response "Shell..." lets me know its not a good question and to not ask again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-9222032636046540940?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9222032636046540940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=9222032636046540940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/9222032636046540940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/9222032636046540940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2010/02/update-on-chris.html' title='Update on Chris'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-1180687922003275751</id><published>2009-02-01T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T16:58:01.608-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My First "Red Line Message"</title><content type='html'>Before Chris left, he gave me the name and number of one of his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SGT's&lt;/span&gt; wife and said that if I needed anything to call her and that if anything happened to him, she would call me. I didn't think anything of it and just tossed the number. I figured I wont need anything and nothing is going to happen to Chris, so I'm good. Well, yesterday while I was shopping with Sadie, for some maternity clothes, I got a call from a 253 area code. My battery had been beeping low for over an hour and it had already cut off earlier while I was talking to mom, so my initial thought was to ignore the call because my phone would &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;probably&lt;/span&gt; just die anyways, but then something told me to just answer it. When I answered the call I was actually in a dressing room trying on clothes. She said her name and let me know she was calling with a "Red Line Message". Not know&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; what that meant, I said 'OK' and paused. She continued to tell me she was going to ready the information she received. She said that there was in incident during a mission where a bunch of people were injured in a specific company of the battalion. She then said, if your soldier was wounded, you will get a 2&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; call later today, and if your soldier was not, he will personally call you when he is given the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;opportunity&lt;/span&gt;. And that was it...she said good bye and my phone died. I have no idea how my phone made it through that 7 minute call in the first place, but I am so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;grateful&lt;/span&gt; it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting in the dressing room I starting to panic, tears filled my eyes and I had the sickest feeling come over me. Luckily Sadie was with me and could give me a hug and tell me it was going to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. All I could think about was, We are having a baby in a few months and our baby needs a daddy...Chris has to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, he has to come home safe, he's only been gone a few weeks! I quickly changed back into my clothes and we raced out of the store and went directly to the Verizon store to buy a new battery, so I could answer hopefully my husbands call. If not answer the 2&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; call to tell me he was hurt. I got a new battery and waited anxiously for another call from somebody, but nothing! Sadie encouraged me to relax and just finish shopping, so we did. Hours and hours passed and still no phone call. Bed time came and still no phone call...Finally at about 2am, Chris called! It was so comforting to hear his voice and know that he was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never want to get another call like that, but unfortunately they will probably happen again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-1180687922003275751?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1180687922003275751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=1180687922003275751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1180687922003275751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1180687922003275751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-first-red-line-message.html' title='My First &quot;Red Line Message&quot;'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-4780513250163194259</id><published>2009-01-14T18:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T10:36:56.402-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Time...</title><content type='html'>The dreaded day is here...Chris leaves on his first deployment tomorrow!  I knew when he joined the Army, he would have to go, but I never imagined this soon.  He has only been out of training for 3 months.  I guess the one thing I have to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;grateful&lt;/span&gt; for is that being a Ranger he only has to deploy for 3-5 months at a time.  That is a lot better than the soldiers who go for 12-18 months at a time. I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; think I could handle that!  Plus he would miss his the birth of our baby.  He should be back sometime in May or June.  I am not quite sure how I will do tomorrow, dropping him off, but we will see!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Chris is gone, I will be back in Utah working.  Part of the agreement, when I left Utah was that I could keep my job and work from home in WA as long as I came back there to work when Chris was gone.  So, I myself better start packing and get ready to head back to Utah since I leave on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to spend one last night with my hubby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-4780513250163194259?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4780513250163194259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=4780513250163194259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4780513250163194259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4780513250163194259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-time.html' title='It&apos;s Time...'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-7138467042214220518</id><published>2009-01-01T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T10:03:42.655-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_Foawbq1pI/AAAAAAAAASc/WfDYQ35xeIc/s1600/2009+ball+drop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 228px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472269831118706322" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_Foawbq1pI/AAAAAAAAASc/WfDYQ35xeIc/s320/2009+ball+drop.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To me, New Years is just dumb holiday for those that drink to have another excuse to drink (as if they need an excuse)! For the rest of us, what is the fun in forcing yourself to stay up late just to say "Happy New Year!" and then go right to sleep? Well, as dumb as I think it is, year after year I find myself participating in the tradition. So, last night Chris and I rented a few movies and got a pizza. We really wanted to spend as much time as we could together before he deploys next week. But As hard as I tried though, I couldn't make it to midnight, I was sound asleep well before 10pm. I told Chris it's because I'm pregnant and I'm just so tired! I think I'm gonna love using the pregnancy excuse...hehehe! But he was sweet and just let me sleep. Then just as the clock struck midnight, he leaned over and whispered "Happy New Year Baby!" with a sweet kiss on my cheek. I woke up long enough to return the gesture and wished him a happy new year. Maybe next year I'll do better at staying awake!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-7138467042214220518?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7138467042214220518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=7138467042214220518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7138467042214220518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7138467042214220518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_Foawbq1pI/AAAAAAAAASc/WfDYQ35xeIc/s72-c/2009+ball+drop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-4810467333203972272</id><published>2008-12-29T13:19:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T00:06:32.309-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Grandma and Grandpa Fields usually spend Christmas at our house, but since mom and dad were in Utah, they called and asked if they could spend it with us. They came over Christmas Eve to spend the night. Grandma brought over some food and some snacks and treats for us. It was nice to be able to visit with them after being gone in Utah for so long and Chris in Georgia. We told Grandma the news about me being pregnant and she was so excited! Christmas morning we work up early and opened presents together. Then Grandma made us breakfast. It was so yummy! Here are a few pics of us Christmas morning... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Our Christmas Jammies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472115256810067458" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_Db1WQo1gI/AAAAAAAAARs/pVaIKRkiMlc/s320/Anniversary+018.JPG" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;No, they are not Lincoln Logs Honey...Just an empty box I used.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472105337468856386" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_DSz91ZqEI/AAAAAAAAARM/IHyYwKpxnKc/s320/random+003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Chris wanted 35 lb weights, but they were way to heavy for me to wrap up, so I bought two little 1 lb weights and wrapped them up. A first he was a little confused, but when I told him the real ones were hiding in my mom's closet he was excited.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472105339427223314" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_DS0FIT9xI/AAAAAAAAARU/9Bh0nkvusJs/s320/random+014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Since I was not about to attempt an entire Christmas dinner myself, we decided to go with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grandparents to&lt;/span&gt; to Sean and Ann's for dinner. My aunt and uncle and cousin Chris were there too. It was a great dinner and so fun to share our baby news with them too! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;This is a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;picture&lt;/span&gt; of us all dressed up before we went to dinner.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 292px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472105326151582466" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_DSzTrJwwI/AAAAAAAAARE/Lg7kxzb5S70/s320/Christmas+08+003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-4810467333203972272?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4810467333203972272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=4810467333203972272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4810467333203972272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4810467333203972272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_Db1WQo1gI/AAAAAAAAARs/pVaIKRkiMlc/s72-c/Anniversary+018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-7007502339730001293</id><published>2008-12-28T12:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T13:24:59.385-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Christmas Surprise</title><content type='html'>Christmas Eve morning I woke up snuggling in bed with Chris, enjoying the fact that neither of us had to get up to go to work. All the sudden it hit me...I hadn't bought anything for his stocking!!! What kind of Santa's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; helper would I be with no stocking for my love? Of course, I couldn't admit it to him, so I told a little white lie and said that I needed to go pick something up for dinner that I forgot. I ran to Rite Aid to get some candy and a few other things for him. When I was at the store, I walked pasted the pregnancy test isle...it got me thinking...when was my last period? I realized that I was 4 days late. My periods are so irregular I figured it would just come in the next day or two, but I thought to myself "I'll just pick up a test and if it doesn't come in the next few days, I'll take it!" So chocolate and pregnancy test in hand I checked out and headed home. When I got home curiosity got the best of me and I just had to know. I didn't want to tell Chris and get his hopes up if it was negative, so I snuck into the bathroom and took the test...waiting...waiting...waiting...POSITIVE!!! Totally not what I was expecting. I was so excited and I wanted to run upstairs and tell Chris, but I thought "What if its wrong?" I decided to wait an hour or so and take the second test. Sure enough...POSITIVE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, how to tell my husband...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;??? It was Christmas Eve, so I thought about waiting until Christmas morning to tell him, but then I thought, I can't keep it a secret that long! We have a tradition of opening Christmas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt; on Christmas Eve, so I decided to wrap up both pregnancy test and give him them with his pj's. Sitting in our bed, I opened my new Christmas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt; and gave him his. He opened the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt; and then I handed him another present with a huge grin on my face! I could not stop smiling! He looked at me kinda funny and said "What's this?" I said it's a present just open it. With a confused look on his face he opened the present and sorted through the never ending pile of tissue paper I stuck in there. Finally he pulled out a small &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Ziploc&lt;/span&gt; with two little pregnancy tests in it. Still confused, he picked them up and took a closer look to see what they said. He looked up at me with the sweetest look on his face and tears starting to swell in his eyes and said with a little chuckle "Are you serious?" Still grinning I said YEP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We called my sister's house and Chris wanted to tell my mom. It was so cute, because he was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; excited and couldn't stop smiling. Then we called his mom and sister and told them too. It was the best Christmas present ever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-7007502339730001293?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7007502339730001293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=7007502339730001293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7007502339730001293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7007502339730001293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/our-christmas-surprise.html' title='Our Christmas Surprise'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-192574795072532134</id><published>2008-12-22T13:26:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T14:04:35.752-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's almost Christmas!</title><content type='html'>With all the packing and unpacking after the big move, I am glad Christmas finally came. When we got here from Utah, Mom already had the Christmas tree up and decorated. She always sets it up the day after Thanksgiving (a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; family tradition). Dad and Chris hung lights outside, helping to make the house look all sorts of festive! Mom and Dad went to Utah to spend Christmas with everyone. Monica, Ash and the kids--Brandon, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kamara&lt;/span&gt;, and the kids--Cassi and Gavin. They were all together. Since Chris and I had basically been apart since January, we decided to stay here and have Christmas together, just me and him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We only had one car here, because I left mine in Utah when we moved, so shopping for gifts was kind of hard. Chris would take the car to work and I would be at home working all day. So when night time came around, we would either go to the mall together and just shop &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt; or one of us would take the car and go alone. I shopped with mom a lot while he was away at work. Somehow we got it all done and with all the presents wrapped, we were ready for Christmas! &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471960970857744578" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_BPguTHCMI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/JiG0-yQTink/s320/random+001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-192574795072532134?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/192574795072532134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=192574795072532134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/192574795072532134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/192574795072532134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-almost-christmas.html' title='It&apos;s almost Christmas!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_BPguTHCMI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/JiG0-yQTink/s72-c/random+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-5211685058106500948</id><published>2008-12-17T00:07:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T11:23:20.148-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Snowing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It snowed today! We were so excited, we went out to play in the snow. There wasn't very much, but it made for a few cute pictures. If we are lucky, it might just keep snowing for us to have a white Christmas, but probably not! &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472117835291489794" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_DeLb2g9gI/AAAAAAAAASM/Mdv3R9Gzp6A/s320/Anniversary+016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472117837026412898" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_DeLiUJyWI/AAAAAAAAASU/2tvKxug-diE/s320/Anniversary+017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472117824526343586" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_DeKzv53aI/AAAAAAAAASE/6PId8NAn63c/s320/Anniversary+015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472117817742144098" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_DeKaebMmI/AAAAAAAAAR8/C0ohDGXZdrw/s320/Anniversary+014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&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/7471731729771785446-5211685058106500948?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5211685058106500948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=5211685058106500948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5211685058106500948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5211685058106500948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-snowing.html' title='It&apos;s Snowing'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_DeLb2g9gI/AAAAAAAAASM/Mdv3R9Gzp6A/s72-c/Anniversary+016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-5428323883971246941</id><published>2008-12-04T10:42:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T14:05:11.080-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Dity Move--Part 2</title><content type='html'>Monday morning came and it was time to start the long drive to WA, but we still had to pick up Chris' 4-wheeler. When we got to Cycle House, his entire engine was in a million pieces and sitting in cardboard box on the floor next to it. They said they didn't have time to get it finished...??? 4+ months and they didn't have time to do it! Completely pissed off, Chris loaded it up into the truck and we took off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather started out fine, but then it started raining and the wind was blowing like crazy. Being the last week in November, we were lucky it was just rain and wind instead or snow. The U-Haul was swaying side to side pulling the truck all over the road. Chris was holding the steering wheel tight trying to keep us from an accident. As we continued to drive and the wind and rain stopped, but the trailer kept swaying all over the place. We pulled over to get gas and saw a sign on the side of the trailer that we hadn't noticed before. It showed you how to load the U-Haul. It said to put all of the heavy stuff in first and then everything else after. So basically putting the mattresses and table in first will all the heavy stuff in last was totally wrong. That is what was causing it to sway all over the road, the weight was not balanced right. At that point, there was nothing we could do. It's not like we were going to unload our trailer on the side of the road and re-load it, so we kept driving. To top it off, Chris noticed that his 4-wheeler gas tank cover was not properly secured and was flapping in the wind. Just as we were about to stop to fix it, it flew off bouncing down the highway! We were driving too fast to stop and get it, so we drove to the next exit and turned around to go back for it. Driving back towards where we lost it, we saw it up ahead in the middle of the freeway still in one piece. Just as we drove past it to turn around at the next exit...a truck flew by and blasted it! It went flying again. By the time we got the plastic cover, it was pretty mangled!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After hours of poor reception, bad radio stations, and a couple dozen curse words (directed at the swaying trailer)...We made it to Washington, U-Haul trailer, 4-wheeler and all! Phew!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-5428323883971246941?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5428323883971246941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=5428323883971246941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5428323883971246941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5428323883971246941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/our-diy-move-part-2.html' title='Our Dity Move--Part 2'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-5311332689424297561</id><published>2008-12-03T17:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T09:13:56.534-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Dity Move--Part 1</title><content type='html'>The time is finally here! We are moving to Washington. Chris was released to come get me and all of our stuff. I set up the U-Haul rental and finished packing. Luckily most of our stuff was already packed in a storage unit since I was living with Monica and Ash and only needed clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Army pays for us to move, based on weight and distance, so when Chris got to Utah, we had to drive to Heber to a certified weigh station to get the truck weighed empty. Then we could get the U-Haul and start loading our stuff. We had our king size mattresses and table stored in Monica's garage, because it wouldn't fit in the storage unit, so we decided to load it first. We put the table in then the mattresses on top and loaded my clothes and stuff from the house under the table and around the mattresses. After all of that was loaded, Chris went to the storage unit to load up the rest. We also had to pick up Chris' 4-wheeler from Salt Lake that had been in the shop for the last 4+ months that he was gone. When we called, they told us it still wasn't ready. Chris and I were pisses...they had it for months and basically sat on it and did nothing! They told us to give them another day or two, but we had to get a final moving weight from the weigh station, so we borrowed my sisters 4 wheeler. We loaded it up and hooked up the U-Haul. We thought we could go back to the same weigh station in Heber, but they were closed. We called pretty much every weigh station in Utah and none of them were going to be open because it was a Saturday. We had to hit the road on Monday to make it back on time, so we didn't have time to wait. Finally we found one in Evanston, Wyoming that was going to be open. We loaded up 4 of Chris' cousins for a fun road trip (and added weight...hehehe) to Wyoming at like 4pm. It was such a long drive! We didn’t' end up getting back to the house until almost 11pm. We now had both our weigh in tickets and were good to go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-5311332689424297561?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5311332689424297561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=5311332689424297561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5311332689424297561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5311332689424297561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/our-dity-move-part-1.html' title='Our Dity Move--Part 1'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-1501363332783783355</id><published>2008-11-11T20:43:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T23:59:43.606-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No Fair!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Chris obviously made it to Washington...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S--Hlq3yLkI/AAAAAAAAAQs/FdmvRayzI-s/s1600/111508+DQ.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471741153511616066" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S--Hlq3yLkI/AAAAAAAAAQs/FdmvRayzI-s/s320/111508+DQ.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;because he is enjoying a chocolate dip cone with Dad. I'm so jealous! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Dairy Queen&lt;/span&gt; dip cones are like a Fields family tradition. As kids dad and mom used to take us there after family home evenings or for a special family date night. It was such a treat for us as kids.  I don't think Chris understands how special he should feel that dad and mom took him there. I can't wait for him to come to Utah and get me, so I can have a chocolate dipped cone too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-1501363332783783355?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1501363332783783355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=1501363332783783355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1501363332783783355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1501363332783783355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/no-fair.html' title='No Fair!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S--Hlq3yLkI/AAAAAAAAAQs/FdmvRayzI-s/s72-c/111508+DQ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-6380339029059399417</id><published>2008-11-03T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T23:47:16.193-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Official...</title><content type='html'>Chris is a Ranger!  He finally graduated RIP and we were so excited when we found out he was going to be stationed at Ft. Lewis, WA rather than Georgia.  Since he had his truck there, he was given a week to drive to WA to report on base.  Knowing that it would not take him an entire week to get there, he decided to stop in Utah to see me for a few day.  Chris and his friend Josh from RIP headed out west!  He sent me his picture from the road to let me know he was almost here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S--CfdMw_fI/AAAAAAAAAQk/VyU9rcGaLw8/s1600/103008+stud.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471735549204168178" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S--CfdMw_fI/AAAAAAAAAQk/VyU9rcGaLw8/s320/103008+stud.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They got here on Thursday and were able to stay until Sunday morning.  It was so nice to see him after so long.  We &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mosting&lt;/span&gt; just hung out and spent time together.  We went to Provo to see his aunt and cousins.  It was fun to see them and they really enjoyed seeing Chris and listening to all his stories.  Sunday came too fast and it was hard to say good-bye AGAIN.  At least this time I know he will be back in a few weeks to get me.  He has to report to base in WA and check in, then they allow him to leave to move his family (ME).  I can't wait to see him again...I better get to packing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-6380339029059399417?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6380339029059399417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=6380339029059399417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6380339029059399417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6380339029059399417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-post.html' title='It&apos;s Official...'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S--CfdMw_fI/AAAAAAAAAQk/VyU9rcGaLw8/s72-c/103008+stud.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-9036029912520602075</id><published>2008-10-26T19:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T15:07:50.886-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Boo at the Zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Believe it or not, I have never been to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hogle&lt;/span&gt; Zoo. I have lived in Utah over 3 years and just never seemed to make my way over there. So today when Monica said she was taking the kids to “Boo at the Zoo”, I decided to tag along. There were different stations throughout the Zoo where you could trick or treat while enjoying the zoo animals. I was like a kid in a candy shop, snapping picture of everything. I was so interested in all of the animals that I had never seen close up. We didn't make it through the entire zoo, because the kids were tired of walking and were done trick or treating, but I would love to come back and see the rest of the zoo. Here are just a few of the bazillion pictures I took.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black Bear taking a little drink&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472343654829650658" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_Grj3L78uI/AAAAAAAAAVU/fVkdu3VF7T0/s320/halloween+070.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Pregnant Elephant&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472343629837703394" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GriaFZGOI/AAAAAAAAAU8/0-LAJpq82tE/s320/halloween+038.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Tiger with huge paws!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472343644903850658" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GrjSNcQqI/AAAAAAAAAVM/gosyLS7tmRs/s320/halloween+058.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Sleeping Rhino&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472343639616122258" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_Gri-gv7ZI/AAAAAAAAAVE/NVkUnhHLoK8/s320/halloween+041.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Cute Little Penguins&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472343668003786802" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_GrkoQ5UDI/AAAAAAAAAVc/ibupUB7c8wM/s320/halloween+062.JPG" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-9036029912520602075?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9036029912520602075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=9036029912520602075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/9036029912520602075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/9036029912520602075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/boo-at-zoo.html' title='Boo at the Zoo'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/S_Grj3L78uI/AAAAAAAAAVU/fVkdu3VF7T0/s72-c/halloween+070.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-1435197413548055649</id><published>2008-10-23T21:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T23:08:37.836-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sucks for them!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Driving home today, traffic starting to slow down and there was a huge cloud of smoke off in the distance.  As I got closer to the smoke, I realized it was a car on fire!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SQKmkWK15xI/AAAAAAAAAQE/j3dvJpanSVI/s1600-h/1023081820a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SQKmkWK15xI/AAAAAAAAAQE/j3dvJpanSVI/s320/1023081820a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260950458078717714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You know, I have actually seen this 2-3 times before, but today it was a little different.  In the past, the police and fire trucks block traffic so that no one can drive past the inflamed vehicle and they attempt to put out the fire.  Today, as I drove by, there were 3 police cars parked off in the distance with the driver just watching it burn while tons of cars drove on the free way right along side it.  Maybe they were waiting for the fire truck, but still.  I known cars don't really explode like in the movies, but I also don't think that is necessarily that safe either.  Oh, well, I was on the opposite side of the the freeway and I made it home safe, so I guess I have nothing to worry about.  It just sucks for the car owner, because their car is toast...burnt toast!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-1435197413548055649?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1435197413548055649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=1435197413548055649' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1435197413548055649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1435197413548055649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/driving-home-today-traffic-starting-to.html' title='Sucks for them!!!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SQKmkWK15xI/AAAAAAAAAQE/j3dvJpanSVI/s72-c/1023081820a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-5976854089470815994</id><published>2008-10-22T22:02:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T22:53:23.873-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the final countdown...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Monday Chris had to do his final PT test and re-take his Ranger History test.  He was sick all night and barely got any sleep.  He said he barely remembers running the 2 miles or doing his sit ups and he said he felt himself start to pass out during the push ups and even blacked out, but some how made it through.  Then he had to go straight to the classroom for the written test.  He ended up passing both tests...WOO HOO!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"&gt;Tuesday he had to fast rope from the helicopters and tore something in his elbow.  He says it didn't hurt at the time because of the adrenaline rush, but it sure hurts now.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SQKh8pU5ujI/AAAAAAAAAPk/_Uu1wNHCNlA/s1600-h/Oct+22+2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SQKh8pU5ujI/AAAAAAAAAPk/_Uu1wNHCNlA/s320/Oct+22+2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260945377979906610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wednesday he had to wake up at 3am and do a 12 mile ruck march (full gear, ruck sack, gun, etc.) in less than 3 hours.  He was able to do it in 2 hours and 26 minutes, only throwing up a few times along the way.   After passing the final ruck march, he was cleared to graduate.  Before graduation he had to go buy his brown beret and patches.  Look how cute he is in his new lil hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SQKja9s3_II/AAAAAAAAAP8/gQMuPaI3mEI/s1600-h/Oct+22--2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SQKja9s3_II/AAAAAAAAAP8/gQMuPaI3mEI/s320/Oct+22--2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260946998356868226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;When I  got this picture I said to him "Wow, you look so serious!" and he replied "It's a serious job Shell."  I thought that was so cute of him to say, it make me laugh.  After buying all his patches and hat and new PT clothes, he needed to get a hair cut.  Can you tell?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SQKh8_HfSHI/AAAAAAAAAP0/iWPUr3Z-CSo/s1600-h/Oct+22,+2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SQKh8_HfSHI/AAAAAAAAAP0/iWPUr3Z-CSo/s320/Oct+22,+2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260945383829227634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Look at all that fuzzy scruffy hair!  This text was titled..."hair".  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am so bummed I cannot go to his graduation on Friday, but hopefully he will find sweet lil old lady to take pictures of him for me.  I am just so glad he made it through and will be permanently stationed somewhere soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-5976854089470815994?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5976854089470815994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=5976854089470815994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5976854089470815994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5976854089470815994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/monday-chris-had-to-do-his-final-pt.html' title='It&apos;s the final countdown...'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SQKh8pU5ujI/AAAAAAAAAPk/_Uu1wNHCNlA/s72-c/Oct+22+2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-6553852827676896524</id><published>2008-10-19T22:22:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T22:35:01.920-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dehydration Scare</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; COLOR: rgb(102,102,0); FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;As part of Chris' training, he has to pass a written test about the History of Rangers. The test is not multiple choice or fill in the blank, it is just questions and you write your own answer. Last Monday when he took the test, he failed. They don't tell you what you got wrong or how close you came to passing, its just simply a pass/fail. Luckily he gets 1 more chance before they make him re-start the training course. Tomorrow is the re-take and Chris is really nervous. He says he was never any good at taking tests in school and hates that he is having to take them now in the Army. I asked him today if he was studying for tomorrow and he sent me this picture with the caption "Uh YEAH!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,0); FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPwIB2xIm9I/AAAAAAAAAPY/eg1vlSSGiFU/s1600-h/1019082009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; DISPLAY: block; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259087292836387794" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPwIB2xIm9I/AAAAAAAAAPY/eg1vlSSGiFU/s320/1019082009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,0); FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt; Knowing my husband too well, I said "Can I see you?" and this is what I got...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; COLOR: rgb(102,102,0); FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPwIB7m-NtI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/xdCFqR40F2I/s1600-h/1019081906.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; DISPLAY: block; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259087294135940818" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPwIB7m-NtI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/xdCFqR40F2I/s320/1019081906.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just as I thought...listening to music!!! I highly doubt he is using his head phones as ear plugs, so I hope his crazy rock music helps him study and retain information. Doesn't he look so excited to be learning all about Rangers? I know he has been studying so hard all week trying to prepare for the big day, but yesterday morning he started feeling really sick. With horrible diarrhea and vomiting, he quickly became dehydrated. He has been passing out and so lethargic all weekend. He told me that he fell asleep in his bunk and woke up on the floor in the hallway. Scary!!! I keep telling him dehydration is a serious serious illness and it can kill you, but he just says "I can't go to the doctor, they can't even know I'm sick!" I lovingly remind him that I think they will figure it out when he is passing out and vomiting during his PT test in the morning! He just gets irritated with me and tells me he has to go, so I sweetly inform him that irritability is another sign of severe dehydration. Considering a kid in his last platoon passed out and almost died from dehydration, it really worries me. I know I all I can do is pray for him and have faith that everything will be ok. I guess there is no sense in losing sleep over something I can't control, I just hope everything goes well tomorrow! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-6553852827676896524?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6553852827676896524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=6553852827676896524' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6553852827676896524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6553852827676896524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/dehydration-scare.html' title='Dehydration Scare'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPwIB2xIm9I/AAAAAAAAAPY/eg1vlSSGiFU/s72-c/1019082009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-6371094257110187623</id><published>2008-10-18T08:27:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T23:12:16.682-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Saturday!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;"BEEP BEEP BEEP"  Half awake I pick up my phone, flip it open, press OK to receive my message, and up pops this picture and text message.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq-601_7FI/AAAAAAAAAO4/2F2j6cUAHjU/s1600-h/1018080922.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq-601_7FI/AAAAAAAAAO4/2F2j6cUAHjU/s320/1018080922.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258725432735296594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Good Morning my Love"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Usually I would get a little cranky on a Saturday morning if someone woke me up at 4:50am, but not today.  Waking up to my hubby's face was so nice for a change.  I know it is totally different than waking up next to him, but hey...I'll take what I can get.  He is so sweet to send me cute little messages like this, I think I'll just remind him of the 2 hour time difference so I can sleep in tomorrow.      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-6371094257110187623?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6371094257110187623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=6371094257110187623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6371094257110187623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6371094257110187623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/happy-saturday.html' title='Happy Saturday!!!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq-601_7FI/AAAAAAAAAO4/2F2j6cUAHjU/s72-c/1018080922.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-7551285660030115097</id><published>2008-10-16T23:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T23:19:04.530-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bugs Dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chris was apparently dinner for all of the spiders and bugs in Georgia.  This is a picture of the back of his leg where he had nearly been eatin' alive.  He said both of his legs looked like that front and back, just covered in bites.  It was itching him so bad, he finally had to go to the store and buy some anti-itch cortisone cream and then put on long pants so he couldn't itch it anymore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPrDAzWuUHI/AAAAAAAAAPI/-QfjT6dNd88/s1600-h/1009081809.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPrDAzWuUHI/AAAAAAAAAPI/-QfjT6dNd88/s320/1009081809.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258729933461409906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-7551285660030115097?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7551285660030115097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=7551285660030115097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7551285660030115097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7551285660030115097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/bugs-dinner.html' title='A Bugs Dinner'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPrDAzWuUHI/AAAAAAAAAPI/-QfjT6dNd88/s72-c/1009081809.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-1316654894857721048</id><published>2008-10-13T20:56:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T22:49:49.280-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My visit with the Gavinator!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Yesterday I drove to meet Cassi in Malad to pick up my mom.  Mom was in Idaho helping move Cassi and Gavin into their new place and then needed to get to SLC to fly home.  It was a long stressful drive, since we got our first snow here in Utah.  On the way up, there were tons of accidents with a bunch of cars that had slid off the road.  Luckily I made it to Malad safely and was able to visit with Cassi and Gavin for a few minutes.  Gavin and I shared a moment eating laffy taffy in my car.  He is getting so big and is so cute and talkative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq58RiniBI/AAAAAAAAAOg/XuuQfKjp1Pc/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq58RiniBI/AAAAAAAAAOg/XuuQfKjp1Pc/s320/004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258719960060364818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was so nice to get to see him and Cassi again, it had been a few months since our last visit.  It was also really nice to get to see mom again, even if it were for less than 24 hours.  Every visit with her is nice, no matter how short.  Thanks for a fun time Gavin, Cassi, and Mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-1316654894857721048?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1316654894857721048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=1316654894857721048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1316654894857721048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1316654894857721048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/yesterday-i-drove-to-meet-cassi-in.html' title='My visit with the Gavinator!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq58RiniBI/AAAAAAAAAOg/XuuQfKjp1Pc/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-4728681195688268786</id><published>2008-10-12T10:18:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T23:24:03.266-06:00</updated><title type='text'>1st snow of the year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"&gt;I heard on the radio that it was supposed to snow on Saturday and Sunday.  After no snow on Saturday and no signs of snow coming, I gave up on the thought of it.  Then sure enough, Sunday morning when I woke up and looked out my window, this is what I saw...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq1YsjoFZI/AAAAAAAAANw/t5Jr6nvHCDE/s1600-h/1012080814a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq1YsjoFZI/AAAAAAAAANw/t5Jr6nvHCDE/s320/1012080814a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258714950790550930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq1Ywi7U-I/AAAAAAAAAN4/-gh-nYaDzuE/s1600-h/1012080818a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq1Ywi7U-I/AAAAAAAAAN4/-gh-nYaDzuE/s320/1012080818a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258714951861359586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love when it snows, especially here in Utah, becuase the mountains are so beasutiful coverd in snow.  My nephews were so excited, they quickly got on their snow gear and headed outside.  Dallin started making a snow man and wanted to make an entire snow family, but ran out of snow after the first one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq43kZBTII/AAAAAAAAAOY/hkfgumvYYLI/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq43kZBTII/AAAAAAAAAOY/hkfgumvYYLI/s320/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258718779709410434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dallin and his Snow Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-4728681195688268786?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4728681195688268786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=4728681195688268786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4728681195688268786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4728681195688268786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/our-1st-snow-of-year.html' title='1st snow of the year!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq1YsjoFZI/AAAAAAAAANw/t5Jr6nvHCDE/s72-c/1012080814a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-2800450212155189697</id><published>2008-10-09T21:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T22:57:51.682-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Is that self tanner???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Today, Chris went to Barnes and Noble to relax and read a good book.  I asked him to send me a picture so I could see his handsomeness.  This is what I got...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq8zYX65lI/AAAAAAAAAOw/8o1tFCbSxWA/s1600-h/1012081054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq8zYX65lI/AAAAAAAAAOw/8o1tFCbSxWA/s320/1012081054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258723105810605650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't get me wrong, he is a total stud muffin and I love him, but I couldn't help but notice how extremely ORANGE his face was looking.  So, I asked him, "Did you put on self tanner?"  He said no it was just the lighting, but I don't know if I believe him.  Ha Ha Ha!!!  I love you Christopher!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-2800450212155189697?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2800450212155189697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=2800450212155189697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2800450212155189697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2800450212155189697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/is-that-self-tanner.html' title='Is that self tanner???'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPq8zYX65lI/AAAAAAAAAOw/8o1tFCbSxWA/s72-c/1012081054.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-2124799760389452597</id><published>2008-10-05T21:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T22:17:52.763-06:00</updated><title type='text'>NASTY!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;//&lt;![CDATA[  if (window.showTocToggle) { var tocShowText = "show"; var tocHideText = "hide"; showTocToggle(); }  //]]&lt;/script&gt;So, today I learned about immersion foot, or trench foot.    Why did I learn about it...well, because after receiving these photos from my hubby, I became a little curious.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPqyA3yiY8I/AAAAAAAAANo/OQj9BdoFzSs/s1600-h/1009081816.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPqyA3yiY8I/AAAAAAAAANo/OQj9BdoFzSs/s320/1009081816.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258711242954138562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;You can see his feet starting to mold!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPqyARQFJAI/AAAAAAAAANg/vaPCgEL8Nj0/s1600-h/1009081418a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPqyARQFJAI/AAAAAAAAANg/vaPCgEL8Nj0/s320/1009081418a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258711232609068034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;He said he almost ripped his sole off when he took his boots off...OUCH!!!  Chris was told to go with out shoes for the weekend, so his feet could heal.  After a day his feet started to dry out, which made then crack and bleed and hurt even more.  Two days later he had to do a 5 mile run on his poor lil feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Now, that you have seen these nasty photos...here is what I learned.  It is a medical condition caused by prolonged exposure of the feet to damp, unsanitary and cold conditions above freezing point.  Immersion foot occurs when feet are cold and damp while wearing constricting footwear.  The condition can occur with as little as twelve hours' exposure.  The s&lt;span class="mw-headline"&gt;ymptoms are: &lt;/span&gt;Affected feet become numb and then turn red or blue. As the condition worsens, they may swell. Advanced immersion foot often involves blisters and open sores, which lead to fungal infections; this is sometimes called jungle rot.  If left untreated, immersion foot usually results in gangrene, which can require amputation. If immersion foot is treated properly, complete recovery is normal, though it is marked by severe short-term pain when feeling is returning. Like other cold injuries, immersion foot leaves sufferers more susceptible to it in the future. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm glad there was no amputation necessary here!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-2124799760389452597?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2124799760389452597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=2124799760389452597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2124799760389452597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2124799760389452597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/nasty.html' title='NASTY!!!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SPqyA3yiY8I/AAAAAAAAANo/OQj9BdoFzSs/s72-c/1009081816.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-6960618557504411889</id><published>2008-10-01T19:50:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T23:44:03.271-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Giant Zucchini</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Last week my boss brought me two zucchini from his garden.  He knows that we have a not so successful garden at our house and since his produces more than he and his wife can eat, he thought he would share!  They were not huge, but they were much larger than the ones you buy at the store.  One Zucchini made 4-6 loaves of bread.  When I brought them home, Cole was shocked at how big they were compared to the tiny zucchini from his garden.  So, the next day I mentioned to my boss that my nephew was so shocked that the zucchini were so big.  He told me that he could grow them much much bigger than that!  He said that they had 1 more zucchini left and that he was going to leave it  for another week and then bring it to me to give my nephew.  Today he brought it in to work for me and it was ginormous!!! He said if he let if grow any longer it may not fit in my car.  When I got home from work, I brought it in the house to surprise Cole.  As soon as he saw it he freaked out!  He thought it was the coolest thing ever.  He was so excited, he tried to carry it to show his mom and dad, but it was a little too heavy.  I wish I could have captured his initial reaction on camera, but the grin on his face shows how excited he still is about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SOb1_qA9--I/AAAAAAAAAMU/bn8WQul5Dkc/s1600-h/Cole.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SOb1_qA9--I/AAAAAAAAAMU/bn8WQul5Dkc/s320/Cole.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253156489333177314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;The thing is almost 3 feet long and about 8-10" diameter.  I am not really sure what we are going to do with it, but maybe we will have to try a few dozen new recipes to try to use it all up!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-6960618557504411889?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6960618557504411889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=6960618557504411889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6960618557504411889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6960618557504411889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/10/coles-giant-zucchini.html' title='The Giant Zucchini'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SOb1_qA9--I/AAAAAAAAAMU/bn8WQul5Dkc/s72-c/Cole.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-2419001844589817267</id><published>2008-09-30T22:02:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T23:42:50.712-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Let the Anxiety Begin</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Now that Chris has started the actual Ranger Indoctrinate Program, he is not allowed phone privileges.  I rarely hear from him and when I do, it is a text her or a text there, but when I reply, he is gone!  Today I got these very disturbing pictures from him with the following texts...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"I'm so sad!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObsrcaRn6I/AAAAAAAAAME/xrZkgIctG5E/s1600-h/Sept+30,+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObsrcaRn6I/AAAAAAAAAME/xrZkgIctG5E/s320/Sept+30,+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253146246479191970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"My Leg"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObsrGcxekI/AAAAAAAAAL0/aV4iVHwkaHc/s1600-h/Sept+28-08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObsrGcxekI/AAAAAAAAAL0/aV4iVHwkaHc/s320/Sept+28-08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253146240584088130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Can you see it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObsrYun0nI/AAAAAAAAAL8/b88bFSGSPL4/s1600-h/Sept+30+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObsrYun0nI/AAAAAAAAAL8/b88bFSGSPL4/s320/Sept+30+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253146245490791026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Hamburger Feet"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObsrUGVMKI/AAAAAAAAAMM/LH0FreTWeWA/s1600-h/1003082124.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObsrUGVMKI/AAAAAAAAAMM/LH0FreTWeWA/s320/1003082124.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253146244248055970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Not knowing what the heck he was talking about and what happened, the anxiety attack began,  I started to panic, worry, stress, and CRY!  I tried to text back to say "Why are you sad? What happened? Are you OK? What wrong with you chest?" but he obviously had to shut his phone off and could not text back.  Waiting in suspense, having major anxiety, I finally get a text back that said "Jujitsu 3 against me, broken rib, hurts to breathe, messed up knee".  Again, I tried to text back to ask for details, but no response.  All night I couldn't help but think about him and all the pain he must be experiencing.  I can tell in the picture of his face that his head is swollen and bruised.  The picture of his leg tells me that its his left leg, yeah the one that had $40k surgery.  The one of his chest makes me nauseous to look at cuz you can totally see his rib sticking out.  I can handle the "Hamburger feet" picture, because those are just really bad blisters that I am sure hurt him, but they won't kill him.  He refuses to go to the doctor, because they will restart him and he doesn't want that.  I know that all I can do is pray for him and have faith the Lord will bless him to be healed.  Maybe this is why they say the less you know the better, because the more I know, the more I worry!  And the more I worry, the less sleep I get!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-2419001844589817267?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2419001844589817267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=2419001844589817267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2419001844589817267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2419001844589817267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/let-anxiety-begin.html' title='Let the Anxiety Begin'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObsrcaRn6I/AAAAAAAAAME/xrZkgIctG5E/s72-c/Sept+30,+08.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-7055375347500578014</id><published>2008-09-27T21:53:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T22:02:27.945-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Auntie Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Today my brother in law was speaking at a Word Press Conference and my sister wanted to attend, so she asked if I would help out with the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My day began at 8:45am with Cole and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dallin&lt;/span&gt; screaming as if there were a fire or some other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;emergency&lt;/span&gt;..."WAKE UP!  Shell Shell...WAKE UP!!!" So, awake I was!  I mosey on down the stairs to get my schedule for the day from my sister and out the door she went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate breakfast, took a shower and got ready.  Since it was Cole's day for 1/2 time snacks and treats for his soccer game, I had to finish baking and frosting cupcakes, and get the snacks and water loaded in my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObe03sB4cI/AAAAAAAAALM/KFohR4S2nGY/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObe03sB4cI/AAAAAAAAALM/KFohR4S2nGY/s320/007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253131015257448898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Green sprinkles for the "Green Dragons"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I helped Cole get dressed for soccer and then helped Sadie make a card and wrap a gift for a baby shower.  We dropped the gift and off we went to pick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dallin&lt;/span&gt; up from his Cartooning Class in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Orem&lt;/span&gt; at 11:30am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObjxQ1JR6I/AAAAAAAAALk/AcmTYOicBlk/s1600-h/0927081143a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObjxQ1JR6I/AAAAAAAAALk/AcmTYOicBlk/s320/0927081143a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253136450845231010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After picking up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Dallin&lt;/span&gt;, we had to race back to Cedar Hills to have Cole and the treats to the soccer field by 12pm.  Arriving only 5 or so minutes late, I told Cole to run out there and find his coach while I gather the treats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObfEI7JNaI/AAAAAAAAALc/47H3YT952Yk/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObfEI7JNaI/AAAAAAAAALc/47H3YT952Yk/s320/011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253131277582284194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cole running for the ball, but the girl is kinda blocking him out of the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game was a ton of fun until Cole is kicked in the face and got a bloody nose all over.  Trying to calm him down and keep myself from passing out I cleaned him up and shoved a tissue up his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; nostril.  It finally stopped bleeding and being a tough guy, he was right back in the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the game, I dropped Sadie off at the baby shower late and head home to get the boys some lunch.  Feeling all motivated, I decided to clean my car inside and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObltOm0l-I/AAAAAAAAALs/uxc-FbPvxtA/s1600-h/0927081537a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObltOm0l-I/AAAAAAAAALs/uxc-FbPvxtA/s320/0927081537a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253138580552062946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Look how pretty, all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;shiny&lt;/span&gt; and clean!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not realizing what time it was and that I was supposed to have a pasta salad made and delivered to the church building for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Women's&lt;/span&gt; Conference by 4:45pm, I ran to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt;, bought what I needed and raced home to get started.  I threw it together super fast, delivered it to the church and hurried home to get myself changed and ready to attend Women's Conference.  Monica got home just after 5pm, changed her clothes and off we went to be spiritually edified while Sadie watched the boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over all it was a great day!  I really enjoyed spending time with the kids and I am glad I was able to help my sister out to allow her to go support her hubby!  I think I got just a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;glimpse&lt;/span&gt; of what being a mom is all about...running kids all over the place, juggling a million things at once, baking, soccer mom, etc.  It was extremely chaotic and I am pretty sure I bit ALL of my nails off!  I don't know how you moms do it everyday.  I am just glad at the end of the day I was able to relax and enjoy conference with my sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-7055375347500578014?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7055375347500578014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=7055375347500578014' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7055375347500578014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7055375347500578014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/auntie-mom.html' title='Auntie Mom'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SObe03sB4cI/AAAAAAAAALM/KFohR4S2nGY/s72-c/007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-3030417564183647495</id><published>2008-09-23T21:23:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T21:54:57.024-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Say WHAT???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Today, while at work, I received this text message and picture&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"You Ready?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SN2pfqBCglI/AAAAAAAAAKU/Vodk4lfA9bY/s1600-h/Sept+23,+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SN2pfqBCglI/AAAAAAAAAKU/Vodk4lfA9bY/s320/Sept+23,+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250539101903553106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chris is so cute.  He was out shopping with some Army buddies, who knows where, and he stops to take a picture of a stroller to tell me he wants a baby!  Typical guy...he picked out the JEEP stroller, the closest thing to a pimp car for his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt;' one.  He has been telling me for a while now that he wants to start having kids, but it is next to impossible to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;conceive&lt;/span&gt; a baby right now, with him in the Army.  I know he wants one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; bad and so do I, but it is hard for me, knowing that he will hardly ever be home to be a daddy!    I guess we will just have to wait and see what happens, see what God has in store for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-3030417564183647495?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3030417564183647495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=3030417564183647495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/3030417564183647495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/3030417564183647495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/say-what.html' title='Say WHAT???'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SN2pfqBCglI/AAAAAAAAAKU/Vodk4lfA9bY/s72-c/Sept+23,+08.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-7022554992466202198</id><published>2008-09-21T18:47:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T22:46:58.907-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mail Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Chris and I have had over a dozen mailing addresses here in Utah in the past 3 1/2 years.  I got sick of filling out 'change of address' forms, so I decided to set up a post office box.  I did this about 2 years ago and it's great because I never have to worry if my mail is being forwarded properly or if mail is being returned to sender and I can check it whenever I want.   When we were living in Salt Lake and the post office was only a few minutes away, we would check the mail every 2-3 days.  It sort of became our date night...checking the mail...how romantic! Now that I am living in Cedar Hills and Chris is gone, I rarely check the mail.  I know what is in there...BILLS, retail ads, BILLS, credit card offers, BILLS, grocery ads, and more BILLS!!!  I could care less about all the junk mail and I am in no hurry to go pick up my heaps of bills, so I only check the box once a week.  The last 2 week I apparently have been really busy, too busy to check my mail.  So I went today and could barely yank it out of the box because it was crammed in there so tight.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;After much force and tearing a few pieces of mail, I finally got it all out.  Sure enough, nothing but BILLS and junk mail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNsQCh1A8II/AAAAAAAAAKM/gFabdJKQ4fU/s1600-h/Mail+Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNsQCh1A8II/AAAAAAAAAKM/gFabdJKQ4fU/s320/Mail+Day.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249807426256957570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you believe that all of that mail came out of an itty bitty post office box.  I think the box itself is only 3" wide by 5" tall.  Maybe I'll have to set myself a weekly reminder to avoid this in the future. Now I get to spend the next hour opening mail!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-7022554992466202198?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7022554992466202198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=7022554992466202198' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7022554992466202198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7022554992466202198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/mail-day.html' title='Mail Day!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNsQCh1A8II/AAAAAAAAAKM/gFabdJKQ4fU/s72-c/Mail+Day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-6583217536185322818</id><published>2008-09-20T21:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T21:54:46.134-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A day in the life of Private Petty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Since my day was pretty boring and Chris obviously had an eventful day, I'll blog about his fun day instead of my lame day.  He must have had a ton of fun, because these are just some of the many many pictures I received today.  It first started off with shoe shopping...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"Can I buy these?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ3HjkltI/AAAAAAAAAJE/f8cgq_Z3u2I/s1600-h/Sept-21-08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ3HjkltI/AAAAAAAAAJE/f8cgq_Z3u2I/s320/Sept-21-08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248682429830698706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He even got them on sale for $54.99, what a bargain shopper!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ3YI7wbI/AAAAAAAAAJM/NS-Nj8heitQ/s1600-h/Sept-21--08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ3YI7wbI/AAAAAAAAAJM/NS-Nj8heitQ/s320/Sept-21--08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248682434282373554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Showing me how good they look on his feet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ3Ur07LI/AAAAAAAAAJU/orpoqgmMtmc/s1600-h/Sept+21--08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ3Ur07LI/AAAAAAAAAJU/orpoqgmMtmc/s320/Sept+21--08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248682433354984626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying on a matching Puma jacket...lookin' all tuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ3tis3dI/AAAAAAAAAJc/u3111nZE_gY/s1600-h/Sept--21--08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ3tis3dI/AAAAAAAAAJc/u3111nZE_gY/s320/Sept--21--08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248682440027594194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for a snack at Atlanta Bread Co.&lt;br /&gt;He said it's not as good as Great Harvest Bread Co. here in Utah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ39SLd9I/AAAAAAAAAJk/K87xFifzv-Q/s1600-h/Sept+21+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ39SLd9I/AAAAAAAAAJk/K87xFifzv-Q/s320/Sept+21+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248682444253263826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a visit to the local Petco to check out the reptiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcRDehBjhI/AAAAAAAAAJs/xfEtDVbmiu8/s1600-h/Sept+21-08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcRDehBjhI/AAAAAAAAAJs/xfEtDVbmiu8/s320/Sept+21-08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248682642152459794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Oh, I hate snakes...and this one is looking at me!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcRDhePc3I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/4r9mle_1AtI/s1600-h/Sept+21,+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcRDhePc3I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/4r9mle_1AtI/s320/Sept+21,+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248682642946093938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Chillin' at some hotel waiting for his friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcTz5ObKkI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/ERJnqvW18HE/s1600-h/chicken.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcTz5ObKkI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/ERJnqvW18HE/s320/chicken.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248685672979180098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner at Chili's on the way back to base.&lt;br /&gt;(Chicken, Fries, and Corn--Yum!)&lt;br /&gt;I accidentally deleted the real picture of his dinner, but this is what he ate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcUOfoAkCI/AAAAAAAAAKE/-e0XO5TZ75E/s1600-h/June_29_08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcUOfoAkCI/AAAAAAAAAKE/-e0XO5TZ75E/s320/June_29_08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248686129963634722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Retired to his bunk for the night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad Chris keeps in touch with me and sends me a photographic tour of his day.  He is so sweet to do this, because he knows that I love getting pictures from him.  It makes me feel like I am a part of his day, even though I am thousands of miles away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness for cell phones with Text &amp;amp; Picture Messaging. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-6583217536185322818?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6583217536185322818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=6583217536185322818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6583217536185322818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/6583217536185322818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/day-in-life-of-private-petty.html' title='A day in the life of Private Petty'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNcQ3HjkltI/AAAAAAAAAJE/f8cgq_Z3u2I/s72-c/Sept-21-08.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-1303016666369029449</id><published>2008-09-16T23:04:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T23:36:39.755-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Chris</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Chris is so cute, he texts me a daily photo of himself so I don't forget what he looks like! I have pictures of him all over my office, in my bedroom, on my computer, in my wallet, and on my cell phone...how could I forget what he looks like? Anyhow, this is the picture he sent me today. He rarely smiles, but when he does its usually a cute cheesy grin. I love it! I will have to collage all of his self portraits sometime and post them for everyone to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look how handsome my hubby is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNCQJrdGC9I/AAAAAAAAAI8/90EZtMjbeg0/s1600-h/0907081441.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNCQJrdGC9I/AAAAAAAAAI8/90EZtMjbeg0/s320/0907081441.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246852061844605906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On days like today when work sucks, I'm super tired, I don't feel good, and I just want to lay in bed and forget about the world...it makes me miss Chris more than ever!  I miss being able to come home after a bad day and just vent to him for hours.  Now my poor sister and brother-in-law get to hear it.  I miss Chris taking care of me when I am sick and don't feel good.  I  miss hearing him tell me "It's OK love!  Things will get better, just don't worry about it tonight!"  I miss snuggling up with him to watch a movie (movies are like Ambien...they put me right to sleep). I'll just keep counting down the days until I can have a "normal" husband and wife scenario, but until then, I better get used to the life of an Army wife.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-1303016666369029449?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1303016666369029449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=1303016666369029449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1303016666369029449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1303016666369029449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/missing-chris.html' title='Missing Chris'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SNCQJrdGC9I/AAAAAAAAAI8/90EZtMjbeg0/s72-c/0907081441.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-4525601012988458180</id><published>2008-09-15T21:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T21:32:53.541-06:00</updated><title type='text'>E*Trade Baby</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I'm sure EVERYONE has seen this, myself included, but tonight it was extra funny. Maybe it was just the mood I was in or that I actually paid attention to the commercial. Anyhow, check it out and see if you laugh as much as I did. The last line is the funniest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/g_yA4BAN7BY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/g_yA4BAN7BY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-4525601012988458180?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4525601012988458180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=4525601012988458180' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4525601012988458180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4525601012988458180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/etrade-commercial.html' title='E*Trade Baby'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-736439519150192955</id><published>2008-09-12T20:55:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T22:08:17.935-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's a stye?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;So I have worn glasses and contacts since I was about 12 years old and have never had any problems with my eyes...other than being blind.  Today, I woke up with the most painful lump on my eye lid.  It hurts so bad, I couldn't even wear my contacts to work.  I had to bust out my 7 year old glasses, which the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;rx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt; is so not current, and attempt to drive to work.  That was an interesting experience, making sure I didn't hit the other cars on the road and making sure I didn't miss my exit.  After talking with some friends at work, I realized I had my very first &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;stye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;.  I had not clue what a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;stye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt; was, so I googled it. Definition: A &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;stye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;hordeolum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt; is an infection of the sebaceous glands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt; at the base of the eyelashes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;. While they produce no lasting damage, styes can be quite painful.  So basically I guess its just a clogged pore on your eye lid and they say they can be caused from stress.  Check out my very first (and hopefully my last) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;STYE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3ZYkVtAFI/AAAAAAAAAHM/r1BknKXDFZ8/s1600-h/0913081716a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3ZYkVtAFI/AAAAAAAAAHM/r1BknKXDFZ8/s320/0913081716a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246088157051289682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Can you see it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;So now the question is...how do I get rid of this NASTY &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;looking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt; thing?  When looking online, they tell you not to pop it.  It hurts so bad, like I'm gonna &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;squeeze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt; it.  Then they said to apply a wet hot wash cloth for 10 minutes, but I couldn't keep the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;stinking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt; wash cloth hot for more than a minute.  Anyhow, they also say a gentle massage will help...so I gave it a try. And sure enough the next morning it had drained and was feeling much better.  It is still slightly swollen, but it doesn't hurt as bad and I was able to wear my contacts today.  Thanks to Google, I learned all about a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;stye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-family:georgia;" &gt;!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-736439519150192955?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/736439519150192955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=736439519150192955' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/736439519150192955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/736439519150192955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/whats-stye.html' title='What&apos;s a stye?'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3ZYkVtAFI/AAAAAAAAAHM/r1BknKXDFZ8/s72-c/0913081716a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-5294993017640767841</id><published>2008-09-06T13:57:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T23:13:49.093-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The lost Watermelon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Today, I went out side to water my sister's garden for her not expecting to find what I found.  She and her kids planted this garden quite some time ago, but it just hasn't produced much of anything, but the one zucchini she found about a week or so ago. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;As I was watering the dirt, I noticed that in the corner of her garden box, there was some weeds from outside of the box had overgrown in the garden box, so I decided to climb back there and remove them.  To my surprise, I found a run a way vine with this attached to the end of it..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3r9XyuIaI/AAAAAAAAAI0/YMGu3Qw-B70/s1600-h/0907081344b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3r9XyuIaI/AAAAAAAAAI0/YMGu3Qw-B70/s320/0907081344b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246108580547797410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3qGg0ri_I/AAAAAAAAAIU/kcCqQzcUyCA/s1600-h/0907081340a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3qGg0ri_I/AAAAAAAAAIU/kcCqQzcUyCA/s320/0907081340a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246106538567502834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Yep, that's right...two baby WATERMELONS!!!  After gently placing them back in their box, I quickly snapped some pictures and ran in the house to show my sister and my little nephew who insisted they plant mini watermelons in the first place.  I told my sister her garden wasn't a complete failure this year, she had 1 zucchini and 1 1/2 watermelons.  My nephew was so excited when I took him out there to show him the yummy lil melon he planted.  It was so cute to see his reaction when he saw it.  I wish I had a camera to capture the moment.  Maybe I will get a picture of him when he gets to eat it!&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/7471731729771785446-5294993017640767841?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5294993017640767841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=5294993017640767841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5294993017640767841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5294993017640767841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/lost-watermellon.html' title='The lost Watermelon'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3r9XyuIaI/AAAAAAAAAI0/YMGu3Qw-B70/s72-c/0907081344b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-482472518332244516</id><published>2008-09-02T22:10:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T22:49:58.079-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Chris!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;My hubby is 26 years old today.  He was actually quite depressed about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;.  I guess getting older effects everyone in a different way.  He felt like he was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; old and hadn't accomplished anything.  I had to quickly remind him that he was married and that was a huge accomplishment!!!  Anyhow, he really wasn't buying it, so I just let him feel old for a day.  Because I could not be with him on his birthday, I asked him to send me pictures of his fun filled day.  So this is what it consisted of...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3lWyppKjI/AAAAAAAAAIE/XJvgjnZWXaQ/s1600-h/dinner.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3j9TJozFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Qme8l5vR7zo/s1600-h/PT-L.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3j9TJozFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Qme8l5vR7zo/s320/PT-L.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246099783208717394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Morning PT and Chow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3k-BD8zeI/AAAAAAAAAH8/aywcChLnBzc/s1600-h/0909082005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3k-BD8zeI/AAAAAAAAAH8/aywcChLnBzc/s320/0909082005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246100895044521442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lying in bed listening to some tunes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3k9y8Gj5I/AAAAAAAAAHs/cq2F2-ElhMc/s1600-h/0906081131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3k9y8Gj5I/AAAAAAAAAHs/cq2F2-ElhMc/s320/0906081131.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246100891253510034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Fun Game of Battleship with Campbell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3lXBeqcoI/AAAAAAAAAIM/IixMMKVCTn0/s1600-h/olive.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3lXBeqcoI/AAAAAAAAAIM/IixMMKVCTn0/s320/olive.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246101324653294210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3lWyppKjI/AAAAAAAAAIE/XJvgjnZWXaQ/s1600-h/dinner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3lWyppKjI/AAAAAAAAAIE/XJvgjnZWXaQ/s320/dinner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246101320672815666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chicken Parmigiana From Olive Garden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3k959w_0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/qUueymOTZh0/s1600-h/Sept_01_08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3k959w_0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/qUueymOTZh0/s320/Sept_01_08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246100893139533634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A little I-Pod action...and lights out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It sounds like it was all just too much fun for words!  I am sad I couldn't be there, but I am glad his buddy Campbell played a birthday game with him, went to dinner with him, and shared a bunk with him that night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 26&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Birthday my love...Too bad I didn't get to see ya in your birthday suit :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-482472518332244516?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/482472518332244516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=482472518332244516' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/482472518332244516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/482472518332244516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/happy-birthday-chris.html' title='Happy Birthday Chris!!!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SM3j9TJozFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Qme8l5vR7zo/s72-c/PT-L.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-955042495389601105</id><published>2008-08-25T19:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T22:57:54.663-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate Utah Traffic!!!</title><content type='html'>This is what I get to stare at for two hours every day, an hour to work and an hour home from work.  Seriously, who wants to stare at the back of a Mitsubishi Mirage and a semi-truck?  I don't!!! I mean sometimes it's a Toyota Corolla or a Honda Accord, but still, nothing I care about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9lgnX-6uI/AAAAAAAAAHE/Co-QTRBav8c/s1600-h/CIMG0031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9lgnX-6uI/AAAAAAAAAHE/Co-QTRBav8c/s320/CIMG0031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242020102282341090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And it's not like they have anywhere to go, the traffic is stopped for miles.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9lTFh6i-I/AAAAAAAAAG0/M_66sHcZ4Yo/s1600-h/CIMG0027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9lTFh6i-I/AAAAAAAAAG0/M_66sHcZ4Yo/s320/CIMG0027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242019869858892770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then there are the lovely exits and on-ramps...see all the cars trying to get on the freeway?  I never understood why exit and on-ramps always get so backed up...what is so hard about getting on and off the freeway, seriously people!!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9lajGBMoI/AAAAAAAAAG8/j2Lwl34GChk/s1600-h/CIMG0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9lajGBMoI/AAAAAAAAAG8/j2Lwl34GChk/s320/CIMG0029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242019998054036098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Not only is this lovely traffic responsible for my car being in the shop for 3 weeks due to some idiot ramming into the back of my stopped car, but it is also the cause of hundreds of accidents every year.  I think I see an average of 2 car wrecks per day involving anywhere from 2 to 8 cars per accident...It's ridiculous.  If there were back roads from Cedar Hills to Salt Lake that didn't double my drive time, I would most definitely take them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9lLJVFu8I/AAAAAAAAAGs/kRAZqhTM6VE/s1600-h/CIMG0026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9lLJVFu8I/AAAAAAAAAGs/kRAZqhTM6VE/s320/CIMG0026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242019733439888322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Even when you think traffic is starting to let up and you start to accelerate...5 mi/hr...10 mi/hr...25mi/hr....BAM!!!!...all you see ye break lights screaming in your face as you slam your breaks to stop.  I guess that is why they call it STOP and GO traffic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-955042495389601105?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/955042495389601105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=955042495389601105' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/955042495389601105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/955042495389601105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-hate-utah-traffic.html' title='I hate Utah Traffic!!!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9lgnX-6uI/AAAAAAAAAHE/Co-QTRBav8c/s72-c/CIMG0031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-4241746650785965695</id><published>2008-08-21T20:56:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T22:31:18.074-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No I wanna drive the golf cart...</title><content type='html'>Today my work had their annual golf tournament and since I am such a fabulous golfer...I was the official "check in" girl.  I was responsible to make sure everyone showed up on time, checked in with me to get their goodies (golf balls and tees), received their team score cards and cart assignments, get everybody to tee off on time, and take a team photo at the end.  Pretty important huh???  Well I sure thought so...I took my job very seriously, to the point I even yelled at a few people for teeing off late and making my whole T-time schedule screwed up.  There were 11 teams of 4, so by the time the last group teed off, the first group was just about back.  Luckily I only had to wait 30 minutes, which was just enough time to get some dinner...burger and fries...yum!  I did practice my picture taking skills while I waited...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9guvEB6KI/AAAAAAAAAGk/6r0a1cpxC0Q/s1600-h/CIMG0034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9guvEB6KI/AAAAAAAAAGk/6r0a1cpxC0Q/s320/CIMG0034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242014847306164386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Check out the cart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Finally the golfers started coming back.  Some of the golfers enjoyed a nice cold beer or two, or three...or ten...as you can see in the photos at the end of 9 holes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9emnuu57I/AAAAAAAAAE8/9ZChLNl0hh0/s1600-h/CIMG0035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9emnuu57I/AAAAAAAAAE8/9ZChLNl0hh0/s320/CIMG0035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242012508875581362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ritchie and Jason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9fAhT1HfI/AAAAAAAAAFM/mE9YUIdKLR8/s1600-h/CIMG0039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9fAhT1HfI/AAAAAAAAAFM/mE9YUIdKLR8/s320/CIMG0039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242012953828728306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Taunya, Brian, Paul, and I have no idea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9fKSxI4VI/AAAAAAAAAFU/4bbZ55YjTM8/s1600-h/CIMG0041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9fKSxI4VI/AAAAAAAAAFU/4bbZ55YjTM8/s320/CIMG0041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242013121723818322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jason (again), Dave, and Lynn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9fSwoCU6I/AAAAAAAAAFc/PsXcRjsAl1M/s1600-h/CIMG0043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9fSwoCU6I/AAAAAAAAAFc/PsXcRjsAl1M/s320/CIMG0043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242013267177657250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I dont know, Chad, Dan, and Brian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9fdeGVDCI/AAAAAAAAAFk/YDkyyNxdJPI/s1600-h/CIMG0046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9fdeGVDCI/AAAAAAAAAFk/YDkyyNxdJPI/s320/CIMG0046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242013451183000610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I dont know, I have no idea, Suzanne, and Mike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9flTeNkFI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ZrSxx8Q3xSY/s1600-h/CIMG0048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9flTeNkFI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ZrSxx8Q3xSY/s320/CIMG0048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242013585769336914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Darrin, Scott, and Greg...don't ask!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9fyoTHavI/AAAAAAAAAF0/yU5j1tsseIY/s1600-h/CIMG0051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9fyoTHavI/AAAAAAAAAF0/yU5j1tsseIY/s320/CIMG0051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242013814698240754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Scott, Pete, Not sure, and I can't remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9f6p7dgUI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-d6vGjk1KRI/s1600-h/CIMG0052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9f6p7dgUI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-d6vGjk1KRI/s320/CIMG0052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242013952574849346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hmmm, Jason, Eric, and Randy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9gCB9a9DI/AAAAAAAAAGE/dw8bpuK4Vq4/s1600-h/CIMG0055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9gCB9a9DI/AAAAAAAAAGE/dw8bpuK4Vq4/s320/CIMG0055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242014079284606002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wes, Tim, and Good Question&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9gJcuxL-I/AAAAAAAAAGM/SWiiHmt00Eg/s1600-h/CIMG0057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9gJcuxL-I/AAAAAAAAAGM/SWiiHmt00Eg/s320/CIMG0057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242014206729990114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ted, Steven, and Not quite sure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9gQmOs3VI/AAAAAAAAAGU/egeGVY9iPb8/s1600-h/CIMG0058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9gQmOs3VI/AAAAAAAAAGU/egeGVY9iPb8/s320/CIMG0058.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242014329538927954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;???, Pete, Dave, and Drawing a blank&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9gYddhziI/AAAAAAAAAGc/bGmn1KffwGs/s1600-h/CIMG0061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9gYddhziI/AAAAAAAAAGc/bGmn1KffwGs/s320/CIMG0061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242014464624152098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No clue, Don't know, Eric, and Mr. Bunny Ears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Overall it was a ton of fun.  There were contests for best overall team score, longest drive, etc.  Also, there were random drawings for tons of prizes and gift certificates.  Since i was "JUST" the checker-inner girl, I was not in any of the drawings, but I did get a "Thanks for Helping" card with $30 to the Cheesecake Factory (Yes, I will be going alone since Chris is not here and I can't wait until he gets back to go!).  I guess since I did so good this year, they already have me signed up for next year...maybe I will do better at remembering peoples names next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-4241746650785965695?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4241746650785965695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=4241746650785965695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4241746650785965695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/4241746650785965695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-i-wanna-drive-golf-cart.html' title='No I wanna drive the golf cart...'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9guvEB6KI/AAAAAAAAAGk/6r0a1cpxC0Q/s72-c/CIMG0034.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-3490242983097812530</id><published>2008-08-18T21:14:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T21:51:29.538-06:00</updated><title type='text'>2 years and counting</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Today was mine and Chris' 2 year anniversary, and of course due to the lovely Army, we were not together.  We barely even got to talk to each other...LAME!!!  I just keep telling myself I have 50+ anniversaries to celebrate with him.  Here are some photos to celebrate our marriage 2 years ago today...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9YnerUa0I/AAAAAAAAAEc/xoqp7s3H240/s1600-h/CS006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9YnerUa0I/AAAAAAAAAEc/xoqp7s3H240/s320/CS006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242005926555446082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our first kiss of the day!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9ZBwdpHJI/AAAAAAAAAEs/Y9cbgZ0z7nA/s1600-h/CS052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9ZBwdpHJI/AAAAAAAAAEs/Y9cbgZ0z7nA/s320/CS052.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242006378006518930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So in love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9Y39lYLWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/UMuieIm2oGc/s1600-h/CS282.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9Y39lYLWI/AAAAAAAAAEk/UMuieIm2oGc/s320/CS282.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242006209729932642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First Kiss as Mr. &amp;amp; Mrs. Chris Petty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9ZNLtpuoI/AAAAAAAAAE0/3rZaZkNQE3Q/s1600-h/CS351.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9ZNLtpuoI/AAAAAAAAAE0/3rZaZkNQE3Q/s320/CS351.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242006574299986562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To my sweet love...&lt;br /&gt;Another year to create precious memories together.&lt;br /&gt;Another year to discover new things to enjoy about each other.&lt;br /&gt;Another year to build a life rich in love and laughter.&lt;br /&gt;Another year to strengthen a marriage that defines "forever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE YOU CHRISTOPHER WYNN PETTY!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-3490242983097812530?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3490242983097812530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=3490242983097812530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/3490242983097812530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/3490242983097812530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/2-years-and-counting.html' title='2 years and counting'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SL9YnerUa0I/AAAAAAAAAEc/xoqp7s3H240/s72-c/CS006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-5370549809771692507</id><published>2008-08-15T22:43:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T22:50:56.085-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Random Find</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Last night I was looking online for some Army frames or shadow box frames to put some of Chris' pictures and medals in and I randomly came across this...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SKZcHFFGZBI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/j7XdiytwYkk/s1600-h/list.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SKZcHFFGZBI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/j7XdiytwYkk/s320/list.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234972893557187602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I read it and thought it was pretty funny, especially since most of these things are already happening to me and its only been 8 months.  Since it is so small and hard to read, here is what is says...&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) As soon as you find out her husband is deployed take it upon yourself to tell her exactly how you feel about the war and how WE shouldn't be over there.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Follow that up by asking how she feels about the President.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Look surprised and say, "I don't know how you do it, I could never LET my husband do that."&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) If she's pregnant be sure and ask if the military is going to send her husband home for the birth.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Tell her she should really consider getting additional life insurance since her husband has a good chance of getting killed.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Remind her how lucky she is that her husband gets all that extra tax free money when he's at war.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Try to relate to her by saying you know just how she feels because your husband was out of town on business for a week last month.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Ask her how she can be faithful for a whole year and if she worries about her husband cheating on her.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Inquire on whether or not her husband has killed anyone.a&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Be sure to ask her when her husband comes home, if he's done with the military or if he has to go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So next time you talk to an Army wife...be sure to keep these 10 things in mind!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-5370549809771692507?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5370549809771692507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=5370549809771692507' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5370549809771692507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/5370549809771692507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/random-find.html' title='My Random Find'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SKZcHFFGZBI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/j7XdiytwYkk/s72-c/list.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-769772236637999851</id><published>2008-08-14T21:41:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T22:09:51.133-06:00</updated><title type='text'>An Even Bigger Dilemma...</title><content type='html'>Ok, so here I am freaking out about Chris' birthday which is in 3 weeks and our 2 year anniversary is on Monday the 18th.  That date is even closer and I have the same dilemma, what to do for him? I have no clue.  I will be working all day and Chris will probably be getting smoked big time by some mean Drill Sgt.  That is definitely not how I pictured my 2 year anniversary!  Maybe it's just a newlywed fairy tale, but I thought we would go on a 3rd honeymoon type vacation and just get away for a few days where we could think about nothing but each other.  Yeah right!!!  Instead we will both be spending the day alone.  Well, me with co-workers and family and Chris with a bunch of random guys from all over the country.  So romantic isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I can try to be overly optimistic and think about all of the wonderful future anniversaries that we will be able to spend together, BUT as long as he is in the Army, I better not count on it.  Now that I think of it, I can pretty much kiss birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, vacations, babies, etc. out the door for the next few years...man that's depressing!  Gosh I am getting all sorts of sad, I better stop blogging about this before I make myself cry.  I just have to remember that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SKT_dgfyk5I/AAAAAAAAAEA/I54VZsAxFqI/s1600-h/bumper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SKT_dgfyk5I/AAAAAAAAAEA/I54VZsAxFqI/s320/bumper.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234589549315920786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-769772236637999851?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/769772236637999851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=769772236637999851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/769772236637999851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/769772236637999851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-gets-even-worse.html' title='An Even Bigger Dilemma...'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SKT_dgfyk5I/AAAAAAAAAEA/I54VZsAxFqI/s72-c/bumper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-1724183805201435262</id><published>2008-08-13T21:03:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T21:46:22.708-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Dilemma</title><content type='html'>Chris' birthday is in 3 weeks and I have no idea what to get him for his birthday!!!  Normally this is not an issue because Chris always wants something.  New shoes, a shirt, speakers for the truck, 4 wheeler stuff, electronics, etc.  But now that he is in the Army and pretty much can't have anything, I am stumped.  For most people, the question is "What do you get the person who has everything?", but my question is "What do you get the person who can't have anything?"  I know this is probably a stupid thing to stress about for the next few weeks, but I can't help it.  If I don't send anything, he will be sad and feel unloved.  If I buy something and then pay to sent it, his drill sergeants will just take it and throw it away (or keep it for themselves, like they did with his new cologne) and that will be a total waste of money!  So, what is the solution to my problem...? I could find a cute card and write in it how much I love him, but usually the card is attached to the gift.  I could try and write a poem, but I suck at rhyming and he would probably just laugh at me for trying.  I could buy him something really cool and send him a picture of it and tell him I'll save it  for later when he can have it, but that is just torture to remind him the Army life sucks.  I thought about making him a mini scrapbook with photos of us, but I have already done that for him in the past (repeat gifts suck).  Basically I am out of ideas and will quickly be out of time, so my lovely husband will get nothing but an "I LOVE YOU" text with a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;virtual&lt;/span&gt; kiss.  That is the best I can do!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-1724183805201435262?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1724183805201435262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=1724183805201435262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1724183805201435262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/1724183805201435262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/birthday-dilemma.html' title='Birthday Dilemma'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-2259364594663396879</id><published>2008-08-10T22:12:00.024-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T23:28:37.946-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sexy Soldier</title><content type='html'>My wonderful hubby decided to join the Army back in January. I was not thrilled about it, but I knew it was what he really wanted. We both prayed about it and knew it was the right thing for him and for us so he signed his life away and off he went.  This is him being sworn in as Private Petty.  He looks so hansom and so ready with his shaved head!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ--zdUaY1I/AAAAAAAAAA8/YVNT7U1pQ_I/s1600-h/sworn+in.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ--zdUaY1I/AAAAAAAAAA8/YVNT7U1pQ_I/s320/sworn+in.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233111083280655186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He entered &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BCT&lt;/span&gt; or Boot Camp in Fort &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Benning&lt;/span&gt;, GA on January, 28, 2008.  Rather than doing 9 weeks basic training and then 6 weeks infantry training, he did them together as a 17 week course.  That totally sucked for me, because that just meant he would be gone even longer!  There was a "family day" in the middle, but I was not able to go.  His mom, brother, and sister in law drove down from South Carolina to spend the day with him.  Here are some pictures from there family day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_Bjc_ZXHI/AAAAAAAAABE/tW5gWENmPz0/s1600-h/family+day2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_Bjc_ZXHI/AAAAAAAAABE/tW5gWENmPz0/s320/family+day2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233114106849483890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chris and his brother John-Michael&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_B1zNJyqI/AAAAAAAAABM/KcSBvQ2Pnlk/s1600-h/family+day+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_B1zNJyqI/AAAAAAAAABM/KcSBvQ2Pnlk/s320/family+day+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233114422050409122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chris showing his brother some combative skills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_CG84BRzI/AAAAAAAAABU/mpX_c9SVjGY/s1600-h/family+day+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_CG84BRzI/AAAAAAAAABU/mpX_c9SVjGY/s320/family+day+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233114716703901490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;John-Michael trying on Chris' ACU's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_CTHshx3I/AAAAAAAAABc/9j22zIsC0yM/s1600-h/family+day+7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_CTHshx3I/AAAAAAAAABc/9j22zIsC0yM/s320/family+day+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233114925766920050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dropping Chris back off at the barracks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_ChEuXkDI/AAAAAAAAABk/vSApVdWKGVc/s1600-h/family+day+8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_ChEuXkDI/AAAAAAAAABk/vSApVdWKGVc/s320/family+day+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233115165487501362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One last wave...I so would have been running after him crying hysterically!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Chris returned to "hell" as he calls it, he continued his training and prepared for graduation.  I was actually able to make it to that...thank goodness!  His dad, brother, and sister in law also came down for the event.  Here are some photos from graduation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_DQekMWKI/AAAAAAAAABs/-qLU-Vxd0fA/s1600-h/graduation10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_DQekMWKI/AAAAAAAAABs/-qLU-Vxd0fA/s320/graduation10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233115979877996706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Turning Blue Ceremony&lt;br /&gt;(that is where he gets the cool blue cord on his shoulder)&lt;br /&gt;He looks so serious and so hot!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_DzlYOHII/AAAAAAAAAB0/T9de4D3nm6c/s1600-h/me+and+chris.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_DzlYOHII/AAAAAAAAAB0/T9de4D3nm6c/s320/me+and+chris.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233116583002250370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The soldier's loved one...ME...was supposed to be able to put the cord on him, but by the time I got down the bleachers to him, his Drill Sergeant had already done it, so we took a fun picture anyway.  Also, this is the first time I had seen Chris in 17 weeks.  When I saw him I just wanted to hug him and kiss him and well jump his bones, but he couldn't even touch me, he just had to stand there with his hands behind his back in formation.  It sucked, but he did sneak in a little pat on my butt when we took this picture.  After the quick snap shot, I had to leave him and go back to my seat for the rest of the ceremony...torture!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the ceremony ended, Chris had to go back to the bay to get his stuff and was released from "prison" for 5 hours!  Can you believe it...I don't see my husband for 17 weeks, barely get to talk to him and all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;freakin&lt;/span&gt;' Army can give us is 5 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_JoGgZtyI/AAAAAAAAADE/vcNlAmcSzr4/s1600-h/Graduation+049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_JoGgZtyI/AAAAAAAAADE/vcNlAmcSzr4/s320/Graduation+049.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233122982806271778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Back at the hotel for our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;conjugal&lt;/span&gt; visit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we made the most of it and I dropped him back off at the barracks.  The next day was the official graduation.   Here are the photos from that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_HBT4araI/AAAAAAAAACc/sbnT-FdHJaA/s1600-h/graduation21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 319px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_HBT4araI/AAAAAAAAACc/sbnT-FdHJaA/s320/graduation21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233120117358505378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chris and I after the Graduation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_IuloRBYI/AAAAAAAAAC0/ay8YyW8tfY0/s1600-h/my+baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_IuloRBYI/AAAAAAAAAC0/ay8YyW8tfY0/s320/my+baby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233121994728342914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another picture of us, but my eyes were closed...dang it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_Hx6fB_BI/AAAAAAAAACk/ZuYGpW9OYck/s1600-h/graduation20.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_Hx6fB_BI/AAAAAAAAACk/ZuYGpW9OYck/s320/graduation20.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233120952354733074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chris with Drill Sergeant Brown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_IMNT4MDI/AAAAAAAAACs/hcJxBXVMjaY/s1600-h/graduation25.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_IMNT4MDI/AAAAAAAAACs/hcJxBXVMjaY/s320/graduation25.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233121404084826162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chris with Drill Sergeant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hord&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_JCSxJ7BI/AAAAAAAAAC8/nEQf1mRs6gc/s1600-h/basic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ_JCSxJ7BI/AAAAAAAAAC8/nEQf1mRs6gc/s320/basic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233122333262736402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chris and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Kawolski&lt;/span&gt; talking to Drill Sergeant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After the graduation, Chris was able to leave base for the weekend, so we headed up the South Carolina to visit the rest of his family.  Besides the fact we got stuck in traffic for 3 hours without moving an inch due to a semi rolled over across the highway, it was a lot of fun.  I got to see his mom and sister and was able to meet my newest nephew for the first time, who was already a year old. We basically just hung out with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;fam&lt;/span&gt; and relaxed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning we got back in the car and headed for Georgia.  Chris had to report back that night and I had to say goodbye :-(   Dropping him off was so hard.  I cried and cried and cried some more!  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;crappy&lt;/span&gt; thing was, my flight didn't leave until Monday morning, so I had to go back to my hotel alone, knowing that my husband was only minutes away...torture AGAIN!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris is working on becoming an Airborne Ranger.  He has completed Airborne Jump School and received his red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Beret&lt;/span&gt; and his silver wings.  He is currently in holding for RIP (Ranger &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Indoctrinate&lt;/span&gt; Program).  That is where they weed out the good and the back before they sent you to the official Ranger School.  He should be starting RIP in 2 weeks and then graduating from RIP 4 weeks later.  Good luck my love!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-2259364594663396879?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2259364594663396879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=2259364594663396879' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2259364594663396879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/2259364594663396879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-sexy-soldier.html' title='My Sexy Soldier'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJ--zdUaY1I/AAAAAAAAAA8/YVNT7U1pQ_I/s72-c/sworn+in.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-7905361752024810179</id><published>2008-08-03T21:53:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T08:18:29.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye Bye New Car</title><content type='html'>Tuesday after work, all I wanted to do was go home and relax.  I merge onto the freeway and 5 minutes later I am stopped due to an idiot Utah driver.  Yes, this is my brand new car smashed!!!  I don't even have license plates for it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJZ_sOGQGZI/AAAAAAAAAA0/XHQrESmkwdM/s1600-h/my+car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJZ_sOGQGZI/AAAAAAAAAA0/XHQrESmkwdM/s320/my+car.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230508414912698770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was typical stop and go rush hour traffic.  There was a large lifted pick up truck behind me who obviously decided not to stop.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sucky&lt;/span&gt; thing is that I was completely stopped and looked up in my rear view mirror and saw him coming right at me.  I thought to myself...Is he going to stop?  So with my head turned looking in the mirror, he slammed right into the back of my new car.  As you can see, he was much higher than me, which is why he barely damaged the bumper, he went right over the top of me.  Fully knowing it was his fault and trying to avoid a ticket, he asked me not to call the police.  But I am no idiot, I've been in too many accidents to not know the drill.  I told him I already called the police, so we just pulled off to the side of the freeway to wait.  After exchanging info and waiting 20+ minutes with no police arriving, I called back to see what the hold up was.  The dispatch advised us to just leave as long as we had each others insurance info.  Lucky for him, he got out of a ticket!  And I though Seattle drivers sucked...Utah is so much worse!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My neck was pretty sore, so I went to the chiropractor that night for x-rays and an adjustment.  Of course, the next morning I woke up extra sore.  I am still recovering from the whip lash and I constantly have a headache and feel nauseated all day.  My car is in the shop and will be for the next 2 weeks, so I get to drive an awesome champagne colored Chevy Malibu.  Yeah, its pretty sweet!  It's definitely better than the white cargo van that Enterprise tried to give me.  Me driving a cargo van...now that's funny.  I would surely kill myself and everyone else on the road driving that.  I can't wait for my car to be fixed so I can be back on the road with my own set of wheels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-7905361752024810179?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7905361752024810179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=7905361752024810179' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7905361752024810179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7905361752024810179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/bye-bye-new-car.html' title='Bye Bye New Car'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SJZ_sOGQGZI/AAAAAAAAAA0/XHQrESmkwdM/s72-c/my+car.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-7905318644996049302</id><published>2008-07-27T21:37:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T08:18:29.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Patriotic Cookie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm up to 2 posts now...doing good so far. I thought I would test out my cheesy &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;blogger skills and blog about something totally random and see how I do.  So &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;today's topic is a patriotic cookie.  This week Utah celebrated it's very own holiday,&lt;/span&gt; Pioneer Day, but it lasts the whole weekend, so I don't know why they call it &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Pioneer DAY!  Anyway, that is definitely not worth my time trying to figure out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Utah's thinking on such matters.  So back to the patriotic cookie...my super crafty&lt;/span&gt; sister decided to celebrate the end of the holiday weekend today by making oh so &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;cute American Flag Sugar Cookies.  See Aren't they cute???&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;                                                       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SI1BM1FF1FI/AAAAAAAAAAU/xPCLyTDfcHE/s1600-h/cookie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SI1BM1FF1FI/AAAAAAAAAAU/xPCLyTDfcHE/s200/cookie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227906431109682258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Okay, so we are missing 46 stars and 7 stripes, but you get the point.  You try fitting&lt;/span&gt; all that on a 2" diameter cookie.  I think they look pretty dang good and they &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;tasted good too.  If you want the recipe, its Pillsbury pre-made sugar cookies, 1 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;container of frosting, strawberries, and blue berries.  Pretty tough one to screw up,&lt;/span&gt; so good luck on making your very own.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-7905318644996049302?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7905318644996049302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=7905318644996049302' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7905318644996049302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/7905318644996049302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-up-to-2-posts-now.html' title='Patriotic Cookie'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FODm0BxanbA/SI1BM1FF1FI/AAAAAAAAAAU/xPCLyTDfcHE/s72-c/cookie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7471731729771785446.post-3646169685517450175</id><published>2008-07-27T00:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T01:25:18.017-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting Over!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Once upon a time...I started a blog!  However, I failed to acknowledge it's mere existence and NEVER wrote anything, so I have decided to try again.  Due to the fact I forgot my password to the blog account and I no longer have access to the email account I set it up with, I am forced to start over.  Maybe its for the better, this way I have a fresh start at proving myself worthy of the blogger life.  If you are curious on just how lame my &lt;a href="http://pleaseannielouise.blogspot.com/"&gt;previous blog &lt;/a&gt;really was, feel free to check it out.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:georgia;" &gt;It was oh so lovely, with 1 entry, 3 comments and yes...2 friends, my sister and her husband.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:georgia;" &gt;I am officially starting over with this whole blogging thing, so wish me luck...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7471731729771785446-3646169685517450175?l=thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3646169685517450175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7471731729771785446&amp;postID=3646169685517450175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/3646169685517450175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7471731729771785446/posts/default/3646169685517450175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepettythingsinlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/starting-over.html' title='Starting Over!!!'/><author><name>Shelly</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
