<?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-6855277444189432424</id><updated>2012-01-17T19:06:25.947-08:00</updated><category term='gardening'/><title type='text'>NumNumLife</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-1474668555772350093</id><published>2012-01-17T14:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T19:06:26.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Free</title><content type='html'>I was joking with a friend the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that I wasn't trying as hard with the second one. I told her it didn't matter as much to me how he turned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a joke, but it got me thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I devote most of my energy to my kids. I save some for my husband, 'cause he is pretty cute. I get out by myself, enjoy my own interests and time with friends, but the majority of my energy is devoted to teaching, shaping, loving, feeding, cleaning up after, and caring for my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two now and I find that life with two is easier than life with one. &amp;nbsp;A lot of things contribute to this. I have more experience, a better support network, I'm older, more mature, better looking (j/k, though I do keep hearing that the long hair is much&amp;nbsp;preferred&amp;nbsp;to the short). All those things are true but they aren't the real reason things are easier. The real reason is that I care less then I did before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cared so much when Aubrey was little. I didn't want to mess her up! I wanted to give her this perfect foundation. I wanted to prepare her and protect her and . . . is the whiff of&amp;nbsp;obsession&amp;nbsp;gagging you yet? I meant well, oh so well, but I was slowly killing myself. I was depriving myself of all the fun things that give life its flavor and excitement. And I was ruining what mattered most to me. Being a Mom became almost too oppressive to enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desmond saved me from all that. I couldn't keep up that standard with two. I had to let some things go, I had to care less and it set me free.&amp;nbsp;If we have a bad moment, conversation, tuck in, or heck a whole day I move on, do better next time. It's life. This is what makes life interesting, what makes us unique.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are starting to get scared here, let me reassure you that my children are still cared for. They do&amp;nbsp;run&amp;nbsp;around wild and naked from time to time but I believe childhood is the best, most appropriate, time to do such things. They are not neglected. They are loved, cared for, taught, and corrected, but they aren't my whole world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am me again. A better, wiser, mom-a-fied version. The me I always wanted to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-1474668555772350093?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1474668555772350093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=1474668555772350093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1474668555772350093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1474668555772350093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2012/01/free.html' title='Free'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-7019273643494953038</id><published>2012-01-13T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T18:22:49.354-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Capable</title><content type='html'>I took the kids to Las Vegas for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;By myself.&lt;br /&gt;We flew in a plane.&lt;br /&gt;They both had colds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Des, oddly, woke us at 5:30 in the morning that day.&amp;nbsp;He cried and screamed when I had to hold him, my lap child, during taxi and take off. The first day he had only a twenty minute nap in the car to sustain him through air travel and a trip to the circus. That night both kids woke up about five times each, and I was sharing a room with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parts of the trip really sucked but we kept going and it got better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, Desmond&amp;nbsp;hollered, protested and wailed for maybe half the flight, but we&amp;nbsp;survived&amp;nbsp;and no other passengers harmed us; though I'm sure they thought about it. Still, despite&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;auspicious&amp;nbsp;beginning I had a great time.&amp;nbsp;We got to visit one of my dear friends, who is&amp;nbsp;referred&amp;nbsp;to as Auntie Nina around here, and my kids were able to play and get to know with her twin girls. And that was a dream come true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am capable. We can do this. We can have adventures. We can bend the rules, cry and scream, and recover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This might not seem like a revelation to any of you reading this, but it is a big one for me. I tend to be conservative about our adventures. I don't like the kids getting "over" tired. I don't like feeling strained. I don't enjoy losing my patience (the kids don't enjoy me when I lose my patience). On the flip side I don't want to live the same day over and over. I want to experience new places and see loved ones who live far away. I want my children to learn flexibility and how to find their rhythm in new places. I miss living out of a suitcase and living with only today in mind. It was great to get a taste of that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with Vegas but this is just the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b9c3e409b66862b0" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db9c3e409b66862b0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330315079%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D254EB35A1AC204903E0901DA8C9F64662B829F03.7255D2F6F04E05AA1EABB3CDACB9B8FC6C4CA550%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db9c3e409b66862b0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D8mnUe54nTrUTR2gStKJUvcpNea0&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db9c3e409b66862b0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330315079%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D254EB35A1AC204903E0901DA8C9F64662B829F03.7255D2F6F04E05AA1EABB3CDACB9B8FC6C4CA550%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db9c3e409b66862b0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D8mnUe54nTrUTR2gStKJUvcpNea0&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;The kids playing at the airport.&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/6855277444189432424-7019273643494953038?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7019273643494953038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=7019273643494953038' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/7019273643494953038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/7019273643494953038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2012/01/capableee.html' title='Capable'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-1841365995611481540</id><published>2011-10-13T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T11:54:06.174-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gardening'/><title type='text'>Fruits of my Labor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;In June my mother-in-law came out from Florida for a visit. Seeing as I had an extra pair of hands I jumped at the chance to go pick out some plants for the "front yard."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6bDBOu0yEEM/TpczVeOGK4I/AAAAAAAAAHg/a3sb0PYJEWI/s1600/october+1237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6bDBOu0yEEM/TpczVeOGK4I/AAAAAAAAAHg/a3sb0PYJEWI/s320/october+1237.JPG" width="214" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;(I put this in parentheses because we live in a condo complex so our front yard is actually the community land that I reclaimed for our growin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;g purpose. I pray and hope that everyone enjoys ours plants and flower more t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; color: #0000ee;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;han they enjoyed the dry, weedy, dirt patch that was previously there!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;So to the nursery we went! We got soybeans and rubharb, a mini orange tree and a tomato plant, two watermelons and one honeydew. all of which my generous mother-in-law purchased for us. Yay for Moms!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; color: #0000ee;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;The orange tree flourishes. (It is a bit hard to see with the zinnias growing in front of it. it is a dwarf tree after all. It the one with the new growth, the brighter green leaves and branches .)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; color: #0000ee;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; color: #0000ee;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; color: #0000ee;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Iud-2I_L7jw/TpcuEKYlmKI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Uiza0w0pE5M/s1600/october%2B1238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663045705483524258" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Iud-2I_L7jw/TpcuEKYlmKI/AAAAAAAAAHA/Uiza0w0pE5M/s320/october%2B1238.JPG" style="display: block; height: 320px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 214px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The soy bean met a early demise when I pulled it thinking it was dead when it fact it was just ready to be harvested.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rhubarb was destroyed from below, which I discovered when the whole thing wilted like an old salad!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; color: #0000ee;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The tomato is either going to take over the world or to solve world hunger (if we can just figure out the shipping costs).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663047535893614386" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2VLWwhGl1MA/TpcvutMXDzI/AAAAAAAAAHM/KlVp0hz2_Fg/s320/october%2B1241.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 214px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The watermelons were very slow to produce but finally we got one lopsided melon that will be opened when sister bear gets home from school!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the Melon, the inspirations for this post, produced three melons. The first one we harvested too early, being first time growers and not having any idea what we are actually doing! The second one I just tucked into this morning. I devoured the whole thing in less then 10 minutes. Thankfully I am the only family member who likes honeydew so i am allowed to do that. The third little melon was pulled out before it had a chance to grow (we are currently making room for our fall planting adventures).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So all in all.  I'm hooked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oO8_2MfgM9w/TpcquauahUI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Ogy4Xznp5GE/s1600/october%2B1232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663042033378035010" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oO8_2MfgM9w/TpcquauahUI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Ogy4Xznp5GE/s640/october%2B1232.JPG" style="display: block; height: 200px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 134px;" width="428" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Five months later. Despite the wait, water usage, time and energy, money for dirt and plants, I'd say I am satisfied with our first attempt at growing our own food.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess you could say it was one delicious melon and it has me wanting more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May fall bring more gardening adventures, hopefully ending in something edible!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&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/6855277444189432424-1841365995611481540?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1841365995611481540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=1841365995611481540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1841365995611481540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1841365995611481540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2011/10/fruits-of-my-labor.html' title='Fruits of my Labor'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6bDBOu0yEEM/TpczVeOGK4I/AAAAAAAAAHg/a3sb0PYJEWI/s72-c/october+1237.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-1931179321121321148</id><published>2011-02-20T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T08:11:53.177-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A hobby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I never thought I would find myself in this place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alone at 7:53 in the morning. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Desmond has ate and come and gone twice already.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aubrey is currently experiencing a miracle. It appears&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to me that she is going to hit the 8:00 mark for sleeping in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot despite trying very hard think of another day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;since she was a wee baby that she has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;succeeding&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;blessing and freaking her Mom out more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How can she still be sleeping? Crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So it looks like I need a hobby. After being basically stuck &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in bed and then the house for over a week I am in need of an&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;outlet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just not sure what to pick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could finally learn to sew and stop "neglecting the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;gift that is within me" like the quote on my sewing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;machine warns me against. I've always loved the idea &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;making&lt;/span&gt; clothes for my kids. Problem is all the girl &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;loves are pajamas. Maybe some loving crafted little tops and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;dresses could convince her to actually &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;enjoy&lt;/span&gt; getting dressed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is a photography class next month that seems interesting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It might allow me to capture beautiful pictures of this quickly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;passing season, instead of poorly lit oddly angled shots I take now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Knitting was on my list of things to learn. Problem is &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I start I pick up the needles to practice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I end up with weird scarves that bulge in and out and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;not adorable little baby sweater. Odd how that works.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The point of the hobby was to get my creativity flowing and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;give me a sense of self that wasn't wrapped up on &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;being a Mom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But . . . as I look back on my list here every hobby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;involves my kids. Baby steps I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well it is 8:09 and Aubrey has joined me, time to go snuggle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/6855277444189432424-1931179321121321148?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1931179321121321148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=1931179321121321148' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1931179321121321148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1931179321121321148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2011/02/hobby.html' title='A hobby'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-5630417441563960346</id><published>2009-04-28T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T12:28:16.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SfdMxhTRV2I/AAAAAAAAAEg/YVdjgWc_3bQ/s1600-h/DSC_0538.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329813097652770658" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SfdMxhTRV2I/AAAAAAAAAEg/YVdjgWc_3bQ/s200/DSC_0538.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I guess this is what it takes to get me to blog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i tried really hard to get a *cute* picture. I took about twenty plus with different head angles and everything. I thought about posting of few of the really terrible ones but I knee jerk deleted them. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt; Guess I am use to destroying bad pictures on sight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I suppose a real blog entry might be needed as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been oh like two months. Yikes. I think Rachel is the only one who has suffered any during this long delay which is one reason I am thinking about getting rid of this blog. It just hangs out in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cyber&lt;/span&gt; space being neglected. I'm not sure I need another thing wanting my attention right now. We'll see though. Maybe I am up for the challenge now that there is some more room. Wich brings me to my newest ephiphany: letting go can be good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the biggest thing going on in my life right now is me learning to let go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which will probably be a super fun life long challenge for me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been playing the martyr and milking it for all its worth. I am pretty talented at this. I do it much much less &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;now&lt;/span&gt; but I use to have it pretty perfected.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It starts with setting up a situation that is so intense and draining that you can &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;illicit&lt;/span&gt; pity from it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For me that would be 24-7 mothering.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then you talk about how hard it is and how tired, drained, depleted, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;under stimulated&lt;/span&gt; you are. That gives a great opening for the pity to come rolling it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The pity feels good. "Woe is me, doing so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;much!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is where th monkey wrench comes flying in like the mokeys from The Wizard of Oz, coming to ruin all my plans. Your loving wonderful sweet caring husband offers to let you out of the house, again and again. He wants to share the burden, to help. You refuse. You brush it off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doesn't he know they can't survive with out you. They &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;NEED&lt;/span&gt; you. You are essential. You are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the glue. The OXYGEN. Does he want to sufficate? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;*Ummm&lt;/span&gt; . . . this is when you must stop and reliave that you have in fact become insane.*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You must give in and go out. They &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;survive&lt;/span&gt;. They have fun!!! *gasp The baby doesn't cry for hours, in fact she isn't even a baby anymore, she is a toddler!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it hurts like HELL. It feels like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; are being torn apart on the inside. They can &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;survive&lt;/span&gt; with out you. You are not bread and water, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; are not essential to survival. Turns out you are the icing on the cake. You are &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;loved&lt;/span&gt; and wanted but not necessary. They can do it without you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that rocks your world . . . .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or at least it rocked mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Turns out I needed a little rocking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I needed to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt; a little. It was good, healthy, NECESSARY.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shaun and Bree actually like each other. Enjoy being together. She is his daughter. heis her Dad. This is important, this is just as huge as mother and daughter. It needed room to grow, develop, evolve.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I have room to breath. I have my own &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;identity&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt; from baby girl. It hurt at first but now it feels good. It makes sense. It is healthy. It is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;doable&lt;/span&gt;. I see now why I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;would&lt;/span&gt;, could, even want to have another baby. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;There&lt;/span&gt; is room here in this family, once I let go. Once I let her grow and love other people. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329824027159461970" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SfdWts4ugFI/AAAAAAAAAEo/w3fOB0Q9u0w/s200/DSC_0341.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was so freakin hard but it feels so good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That said I am tagging Rachel and Kendall!&lt;/div&gt;Let us see those pictures!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-5630417441563960346?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5630417441563960346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=5630417441563960346' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/5630417441563960346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/5630417441563960346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/tagged.html' title='Tagged'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SfdMxhTRV2I/AAAAAAAAAEg/YVdjgWc_3bQ/s72-c/DSC_0538.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-4735307729064517562</id><published>2009-02-17T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T12:59:22.205-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrap up</title><content type='html'>So if you read all three of those posts you can probably tell by now that I am loving my life. I am enjoying Bree and her fun personality and her growing independence which translates into independence for me and for Shaun and me. Life is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;going&lt;/span&gt; to end this mega stream of posts &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;with t&lt;/span&gt;he best news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bree is walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took her first sting of steps on Thursday. She is super &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cautious&lt;/span&gt; and takes tiny steps. It is ADORABLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I'm so glad Rachel could be there to see it. I hate letting her drive away at the end of the weekend it is insane how much she needs to be part of my daily life. All I need to do is find Rico and her jobs in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SLO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Anyone know of any good HR or ARCH jobs? If you do let me know!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt; I&lt;/span&gt; am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;proud&lt;/span&gt; of our little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;munchkin&lt;/span&gt;. I'm looking forward to hearing the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pitter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; patter of her little feet for years to come!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-4735307729064517562?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4735307729064517562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=4735307729064517562' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/4735307729064517562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/4735307729064517562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/wrap-up.html' title='Wrap up'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-5041768157763547140</id><published>2009-02-17T12:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T13:05:58.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Part III, Adults Time</title><content type='html'>There has been a  drought in the free time department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a kid will do that to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;yah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Bree is older now though and needs less from Mom and Dad. That means we have been able to partake in some well needed and supper duper appreciated alone time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;highlight&lt;/span&gt; of last month was getting to spend the whole &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;weekend&lt;/span&gt; in Carmel with out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Aubrey&lt;/span&gt;. My brother and his lovely wife let us stay at their house which is just blocks from downtown Carmel. They happened to both be out of town at the same time the exact weekend that my mom dad and sister were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;going t&lt;/span&gt;o watch Bree for us. GOD BLESS them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;weekend&lt;/span&gt; was wonderful. We sat by the fire and talked, snuggled, and you know enjoyed being alone. :) It Rained and we got to be cozy at night. The next day it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;gorgeous&lt;/span&gt; and sunny and we laid out on their lawn like lizards. The beach walks were refreshing and reminded me of when we lived in Grover Beach. We didn't do anything &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;extravagant&lt;/span&gt; because we didn't need to. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Having&lt;/span&gt; mellow adult time was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;extravagant&lt;/span&gt; for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was beyond words fantastic to hang out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;with&lt;/span&gt; my husband and be just a couple.&lt;br /&gt;Yum I Can't wait to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also got to have date night on our own &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;turf&lt;/span&gt; which never happens. Our sweet wonderful friends  are going to be sitting for Bree one night a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;month&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; we will the favor and sit for their boy. We need to do this as friends, look after one another and provide relief! When Ann arrived Bree crawled over to her and sat in her lap and Ann said alright Mom we're good here. And it was so cute! She was ready to hang out with Ann and we just left with no tears or sadness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaun a&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Woodstocks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and then sat at Pete's coffee until they closed and we got free scones. It was right up my alley and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;fell&lt;/span&gt; on a night that Shaun really needed to relax after a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;LONG&lt;/span&gt; day at work. All in all, it rocked! Thanks Ann a&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Corban&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then to top it all off my Husband watched Bree this weekend, in the morning so I could go to a friends baby shower. Do we all know what a big deal this is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaun is not, I repeat NOT a morning person.&lt;br /&gt;This was an act of love. Love for me and for Bree.&lt;br /&gt;It was so nice to get out! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to celebrate a special thing like this and enjoy my friends and meet some new ones too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the next night he took Bree home and did &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;dinner&lt;/span&gt; and bath and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; -so I could hang with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Rachel a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Rico and go out to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;dinner&lt;/span&gt; with them and our friends &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Megan&lt;/span&gt; a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Nick. It was a night of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;awesome&lt;/span&gt; conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; nice to hang out with people who don't have kids. Understand what I mean here: I love my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; who have kids. I love my Mom friends. It just so happens &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; we almost always &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; talk &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;about&lt;/span&gt; our kids. They are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;fun&lt;/span&gt; to talk about. In fact we love talking about them and there is a lot to say, since we are with them 24-7. After we swap sleep, poop, and behavior info &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;usually&lt;/span&gt; we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; run out of time and don't get a chance to connect as adults. I'm working on breaking this pattern with the lovely Mom's I know because I they have some great things to share but it is still a challenge. That is why I loved hanging out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;with these&lt;/span&gt; two amazing couples. The conversation was engaging interesting and got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;me thinking&lt;/span&gt;. It was a blessing to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;brain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt; and&lt;/span&gt; my spirit. And it is all thanks to my man who stayed home so I could go out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again I just have to say, Shaun &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ROCKs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-5041768157763547140?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5041768157763547140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=5041768157763547140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/5041768157763547140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/5041768157763547140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/post-part-iii-adults-time.html' title='Post Part III, Adults Time'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-597009217849724097</id><published>2009-02-17T12:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T12:55:27.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Part II, Visitor</title><content type='html'>My awesome friend from Australia came to visit our little family once again. She was here for a week and a half! Bree and I took her to all of our things: mommy group, play dates, girls night out. It was great seeing her meet the people who are important to me. We had a blast. She is so sweet with Aubrey, they way she talks to her and interacts with her. It was such a treat for Bree and for me to watch. We also loved having the extra pair of hands around the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having her here in winter though made me miss her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;summer&lt;/span&gt; visit so much, when a walk to the park everyday was the best. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ohhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; how I miss the feel of that warm sun heating me up. Summer I long for you. The rain is great since every living thing needs water. :) But it is not so great for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SAH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Mom with no car. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Thankfully&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Atascadero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; we can have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;rain a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; sun in the same day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also got to see our best couple friends Rico and Rachel. They had two different &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;engagement&lt;/span&gt; shoots to do in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;SLO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; so we pulled out the air mattresses and fit five people into our little house. It gets cozy so good thing we all get along. I got to help them a bit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;with t&lt;/span&gt;heir second photo shoot doing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;assistant&lt;/span&gt; stuff. It was awesome to be part of it and see them in action. They are so creative and talented. If you need wedding shoots, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;maternity&lt;/span&gt; pictures, family portraits, or anything of the sort check them out! www.studiocastillero.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it when they come. And hate it when they leave. At least we will get to see them in March when we take Bree on her first mini road trip down to SD. And we are going to the ZOO!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-597009217849724097?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/597009217849724097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=597009217849724097' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/597009217849724097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/597009217849724097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/post-part-ii-visitor.html' title='Post Part II, Visitor'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-3401980521431837320</id><published>2009-02-17T11:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T17:47:00.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Part I, Naps</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; has been over a month since I last posted. YIKES. I have so much I could talk about which feels nice for a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to write what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bree is&lt;/span&gt; doing during all my posts:&lt;br /&gt;Right now Bree is walking (spoiler alert), crawling, laying around with her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sippy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; cup. Eating it, drinking through it, sucking on it, and holding it on her head. Fun times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should start with an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;update&lt;/span&gt; on the nap situation. Things are totally fine now. Turns out Bree is just turning more and more into a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Little&lt;/span&gt; person everyday. And as a little person she decides to exercise her right to not sleep., even when she is tired. She doesn't want to nap, she wants to play. So instead of going down the moment I put her in her crib she needs to get her ya-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;yas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;before&lt;/span&gt; she can fall asleep. I was too attentive and was not giving her time ALONE to do this.  I had to keep checking on her. It was an obsession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the last time you tried to take a nap? Would it have helped you to fall asleep if someone had come in every few minutes to "check" on you. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Especially&lt;/span&gt; if the last time they did you were just laying there staring about to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;succumb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to sleep. Well if your not sure I think I can answer for you. No it would not help! In fact it would make things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;so much&lt;/span&gt; worse. Especially if you liked this person and would much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;rather&lt;/span&gt; play with them than sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have had to let go. For real this time. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. And let me find sleep on her own. Turns out I don't need to know the moment she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;falls&lt;/span&gt; asleep. I don't need to make sure she is covered with a blanket. What I need to do is make sure she can fall asleep on her own because I won'&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;t be&lt;/span&gt; able to follow her around all her life putting a pacifier in her mouth, throwing her back into bed , and wrapping her up in a blanket so she won't move when she can't sleep. I do plan on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;having&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;a life&lt;/span&gt; some day and I think this scenario would make it very hard for Bree to have any friends in her dorm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaun was really helpful through this whole process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;strong&lt;/span&gt; husbands!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-3401980521431837320?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3401980521431837320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=3401980521431837320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/3401980521431837320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/3401980521431837320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/post-part-i-naps.html' title='Post Part I, Naps'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-1742536559363926627</id><published>2009-01-15T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T09:33:57.211-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prayers</title><content type='html'>I am putting out a call for prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been very discouraged and frustrated this past week. The issue causing this mood disturbance is Bree's sleep. She has been fitting naps or taking very short ones and being cranky and tired when she wakes up. I hate when I feel I am not doing a good job with her. I wonder if I should have waited to put her down or if I waited too long, or if she is just teething and no matter what I do it will still be crazy, or if she is having gas, or . . . . etc. The list goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was REALLY letting it get to me. I was letting her long battles with sleep become in a way my own battles. The more moms I commented to and consulted the more I realized that I am the problem- and not in the way I was thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God made Bree and I two different people. Her life is her own, her experiences are her own, and her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;struggles&lt;/span&gt; are her own as well. Don't miss understand me, I am fully aware that she is only nine and a half months old. She still needs me, a whole lot! But I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;boundaries&lt;/span&gt;. Boundaries I am very good as erasing, crossing over, and at time completely ignoring. No more. (in theory) It is time to embrace the boundaries. Time to let my success be marked by more than just how well Bree slept and what kind of mood she is in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So upon reflection it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;turns&lt;/span&gt; out the issue causing my frustration and sadness it really me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Surprise&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore the prayer request I am putting out there is that those of you who know the Lord will lift me up and pray for strength and wisdom. Bree is wonderful and I will not be able to make her life perfect and smooth. I am a big factor in the bumpiness of her life but not the one in control. So thank you for reading and hopefully commiseration, and then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;heartfelt&lt;/span&gt; praying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I appreciate it and need it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me know if there is anything I can be praying for to help you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-1742536559363926627?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1742536559363926627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=1742536559363926627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1742536559363926627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1742536559363926627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/prayers.html' title='Prayers'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-3468545765146274307</id><published>2009-01-02T15:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T16:15:09.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another year</title><content type='html'>Shaun let Bree sit up in the bath tub the other night. And it unleashed a flood of emotions from me. I actually sat on the couch all curled up looking at him like he was evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was pathetic. Thankfully Shaun is a very forgiving guy who happens to love me, a lot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried a little too. Turns out I am sad to let my baby grow up. She is nine months old now. The poor thing deserves to play in the tub. She is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;steady&lt;/span&gt; enough now and smart enough not to do anything too crazy like try and climb out and slip and kill herself. I can see that now after watching her play in there. Her Grandma got her a basket ball hoop with big suction cups and some balls, she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;loves&lt;/span&gt; to chase after the balls and grab them and then of course, put them in her mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is getting bigger. She will turn one this year. She will walk in the next month or two. She will never again be my baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can have another baby and I have reminded of that fact by many people. But I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Skylana&lt;/span&gt; will understand what I mean when I say, "but this little one, this baby is my baby."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working through the pain. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt; I am learning to embrace the chance because I can't stop it as my dear husband pointed out, "I am powerful but not that powerful."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So true . . . &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;deep&lt;/span&gt; breaths.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-3468545765146274307?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3468545765146274307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=3468545765146274307' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/3468545765146274307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/3468545765146274307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/another-year.html' title='Another year'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-586004933562607932</id><published>2008-12-16T11:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T11:30:02.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Season</title><content type='html'>This is Bree's first holiday season, well the first she was able to witness from outside the womb. And as a first time Mom who is really into holiday crafts and traditions and any excuse to get kids and families together to have some sort of "organized fun"I was really looking forward to celebrating the season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to trick or treat again, carve goofy pumpkins, and see the excitement on little ones faces when they see the tree on Christmas morning. I am not sure if you have spotted the problem yet so if not you are like me and I am going to need to share my new found knowledge with you. Bree is still a baby. Meaning she has no idea that she was dressed up as a mouse for Halloween or that the Harvest party we took her too was worth staying up for. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Christmas tree is just a thing conveniently holding red balls that are great for sucking. The presents under the tree are just handy steeping blocks for reaching said red balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winter Wonderland down at the sunken gardens held no excitement for Bree. Turns out they don't let babies slide down the snow hill or play in the snow pile, or ride the train. And apparently said baby would rather be warm and snugly at home anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So . . . I think I may need to wait a few years for the "magic" to return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SUgAfbrxqdI/AAAAAAAAADY/7wENc2ul6hw/s1600-h/My+Camera+224.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SUgAfbrxqdI/AAAAAAAAADY/7wENc2ul6hw/s200/My+Camera+224.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280471103099218386" 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/6855277444189432424-586004933562607932?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/586004933562607932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=586004933562607932' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/586004933562607932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/586004933562607932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-season.html' title='Holiday Season'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SUgAfbrxqdI/AAAAAAAAADY/7wENc2ul6hw/s72-c/My+Camera+224.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-6529174025001669040</id><published>2008-11-20T16:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T17:38:02.907-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Enforcer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;When they placed Bree on my stomach right after she was born I looked at her and thought, "Wait, really? This is my baby. Are you sure?" After we brought her home I thought she was fantastic and so sweet but it wasn't till she started to grow up a bit and I could see her little soul, her personality, that I began to love her. And I am talking real love not I love chocolate and the beach and sleeping in. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So naturally I want to make her happy because I love her and she is the most adorable, fun, silly thing that I have ever loved. I play with her, I wake up in the night to feed and comfort her, I wake up in the morning when she does, I cancel plans when she isn't feeling well, I give up my own wants to meet her needs. I sacrifice my silly desires to make her life wonderful and to make her feel safe and secure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That kind of caring is easy. Don't get me wrong it can be extremely draining but it is simple. Love baby by meeting baby's needs and you have one happy baby.  It is simple, usually very clear cut and pretty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;immidiatly&lt;/span&gt; rewarding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bree will be eight month old in a couple weeks and it seems that loving her is not so easy now. She is still the most wonderful little person, but now meeting her needs does not always make her happy. Not I meet resistance in my quest to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;takecare&lt;/span&gt; of those pesky needs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She wants to explore. She wants cat food, toilets, dishes, power cords . . . . the list goes on. And I must tell her that these things are not for her and she does not like that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She needs sleep and being the active little tyke she is, she is not interested in naps. So I must leave her in her crib and let her cry so that she can learn how to nap on her own. Loving her makes her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;temporarily&lt;/span&gt; (and sometimes for half an hour or more when she is fighting a nap) very unhappy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the long run loving her will make her a happy, alive child and these are serious incentives.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This kind of loving behavior has a down side: the pain it causes me to hear her cry, have her look at me with those tear filled eyes, and the panicky feeling I get thinking she won't love me anymore if I make her take one more nap are selfish reason not to take care of my girl the way she needs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can feel myself turning a corner here. I am becoming a real parent, a real mom. I am understanding tough love and thinking that it is probably called that because in the beginning (for the tender hearted selfish lovers like me) it is so tough to love that way! I want to be the one to make her smile I want to fill her life with toys and hugs and out door adventures. I don't want to be the enforcer of naps and safety rules and behavior modification. But if I indulged my selfish desires I would have a crazy, dirty, aggressive, mischievous, exhausted, cranky, little monster.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time to toughen up my love. Time to get real. *sigh*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks to those Mom's in my life who have gone before me and survived to share your wisdom and support. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-6529174025001669040?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6529174025001669040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=6529174025001669040' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/6529174025001669040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/6529174025001669040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/enforcer.html' title='The Enforcer'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-4163634611275782176</id><published>2008-11-06T14:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T16:14:02.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bree Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Last week marked Aubrey's seven month b-day and boy is she one crazy kid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;Let me list her new accomplishments:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She has two bottom teeth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And boy did she earn those little suckers. There were a few days when I thought a gremlin had come in the night and replaced my sweet little baby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is eating real food&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Food her mother prepares for her, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;which&lt;/span&gt; has been pretty easy so far especially &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;with&lt;/span&gt; the help of our neighbor's food processor. Bree has been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;really good&lt;/span&gt; about eating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; I have given her except &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;zucchini&lt;/span&gt;, her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;zucchini&lt;/span&gt; face was priceless. I think she would have emancipated herself right then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;and there&lt;/span&gt; if she had know what emancipation was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is crawling like an old pro. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is so funny when she crawls from the living room to join me in the kitchen, she has this sad little cry that she makes the whole way until she can plop herself down at my feet, and the she is content. Sometimes she crawls up my leg like she is asking to be picked up. So I do and I hold &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;her&lt;/span&gt; for a bit and then she has had enough and wants to go play once more. It is like she is saying, "Just checking in Mom."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is pulling herself up and standing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She especially enjoys pulling Daddy's speakers off the entertainment center.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is super active. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like any day now she is going to be a toddler asking me for things. It is said so much but I have to agree, It is flying by so fast. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so in love with her and I marvel at the fact that a whole person &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;exists&lt;/span&gt; inside her little baby body. She got her first pair of jeans last week and when she wears them with her little baby shoes she is the cutest babe around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-4163634611275782176?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4163634611275782176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=4163634611275782176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/4163634611275782176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/4163634611275782176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/bree-update.html' title='Bree Update'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-83077835842937491</id><published>2008-11-06T13:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T17:21:59.724-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Over extended</title><content type='html'>I am lying on my couch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;exhausted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; using my laptop to warm my lap. Fall has finally come and I am once again happy that my laptop puts of an amazing amount of heat, not so fun in the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aubrey and I are exhausted today. We had a super full day yesterday, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;spending&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; the morning in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SLO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the afternoon watching my favorite two year old, and the evening with our new friends. Everything we have been doing is fun, I am just beat. I guess I am no longer the energizer bunny. I use to be able to go go go. Granted that was before I had a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;munchkin&lt;/span&gt; of my own who still wakes a few times in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like I am going to need to slow things down a bit. Having two of three social get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;togethers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; a day is taking its tole. When Bree was first born I was craving just one friend to talk to and hang out with and now the Lord has blessed me with too many. Every week I seem to meet another person who I think it would be fun to hang out with. I never thought I would have this problem! Like I said my early days as a stay at home mom were pretty bleak in the social area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure what we are going to do. I have a weaken when it comes to making decisions about social stuff. I worry to much that I will make the wrong choice and miss out or have things go badly. I have regretting and going down the "should have" path. I'm getting better at leaving the cards where they lie but it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; an area that the Lord is hounding me in right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow my life is so terrible! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I am glad I'm writing this out because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; this is a great problem to have. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; hate to miss a good time but I doubt an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;exhausted&lt;/span&gt; mom and babe will still find themselves welcomed if they don't find some time for rest and naps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-83077835842937491?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/83077835842937491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=83077835842937491' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/83077835842937491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/83077835842937491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-am-lying-on-my-couch-exhuasted-using.html' title='Over extended'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-971565173190688703</id><published>2008-11-06T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T13:54:23.088-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New World</title><content type='html'>Nothing like a Presidental Race to get me blogging again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not completely sure how I feel about the results of the election . . . . It is only slowly becoming real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do know that I feel hopeful: I cried when I listened to OBama's exceptance speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like things in this country might change for the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I might want to actually fly an american flag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to feel patriotic not just know I should be thankful for everything in my life that comes from being an American citizen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bree will grow up in a country that elected Barack OBama to lead them. That is pretty fantastican. The fact that is an African American is pretty awesome but I am more excited about what I see to be his reasonable, intelligent, thoughtful, and passionate character. I believe he can appoint people who will and can make changes in our government so that it is working for its citizens. I am feel optimistic about the future of our government and our society. I like the ideal Barack represents. I like that I can call him Barack and that I secretly wish he and his family could all come over for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am excited about the future.  Yay for America! *tear&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-971565173190688703?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/971565173190688703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=971565173190688703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/971565173190688703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/971565173190688703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-world.html' title='A New World'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-2821401039162632803</id><published>2008-09-02T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T15:11:37.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and Bree</title><content type='html'>Also having this awesome companion mean I actually get pictures of Bree that have me in them! So she will know I was actually around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL25iF8mR5I/AAAAAAAAACQ/CAhjakSi_hI/s1600-h/Taya%27s+camera+139.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL25iF8mR5I/AAAAAAAAACQ/CAhjakSi_hI/s200/Taya%27s+camera+139.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241549536692160402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL25ifpiQXI/AAAAAAAAACY/4jz5PB9Jbfs/s1600-h/Taya%27s+camera+142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL25ifpiQXI/AAAAAAAAACY/4jz5PB9Jbfs/s200/Taya%27s+camera+142.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241549543591526770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL25iZzRqoI/AAAAAAAAACg/tChWRRXC6i0/s1600-h/Taya%27s+camera+141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL25iZzRqoI/AAAAAAAAACg/tChWRRXC6i0/s200/Taya%27s+camera+141.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241549542021769858" 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/6855277444189432424-2821401039162632803?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2821401039162632803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=2821401039162632803' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/2821401039162632803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/2821401039162632803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/me-and-bree.html' title='Me and Bree'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL25iF8mR5I/AAAAAAAAACQ/CAhjakSi_hI/s72-c/Taya%27s+camera+139.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-938598052369257368</id><published>2008-09-02T14:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T15:05:52.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And Taya makes three</title><content type='html'>I have decided that we need to restructure this whole child raising thing. Every new Mother should get to choose a young, female, who happens to be fantastic, great with kids, and in love with her particular child. Now this person will spend all day with this new mom, talking with her, helping hold the baby, cook dinner, and clean up dinner. And this in a nutshell is what I had for the last nine days and it was AMAZING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taya's visit was such a blessing. I had some one to walk to the park with me and hang out with me, some one to shop with me and help me find cool clothes and sunglasses, some one to share all of Bree's cute day time moments and big accomplishments with. And she had nothing to do but hang out with us. Other Mom's are fantastic, don't get me wrong, I mean hey, I'm an "other mom" too . . . I twas just great to have some one who was there to help me and spend time with me and Bree. It was one of the best weeks of my young Mom life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taya left this morning. Shaun took her to the train station and when I woke Bree and I were alone again. We went to the park, we played, and we strolled. And I think Bree missed Taya as much as I did.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL222Fknv-I/AAAAAAAAABY/peyRPeUCI50/s1600-h/My+camera+042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL222Fknv-I/AAAAAAAAABY/peyRPeUCI50/s320/My+camera+042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241546581654093794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL222HfqZkI/AAAAAAAAABg/mQqV_6vvQLY/s1600-h/My+camera+088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL222HfqZkI/AAAAAAAAABg/mQqV_6vvQLY/s320/My+camera+088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241546582170166850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL222ShJSGI/AAAAAAAAABo/vx3rMTJdcGs/s1600-h/My+camera+056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL222ShJSGI/AAAAAAAAABo/vx3rMTJdcGs/s320/My+camera+056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241546585129175138" 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/6855277444189432424-938598052369257368?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/938598052369257368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=938598052369257368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/938598052369257368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/938598052369257368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/and-taya-makes-three.html' title='And Taya makes three'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL222Fknv-I/AAAAAAAAABY/peyRPeUCI50/s72-c/My+camera+042.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-1283973326608148859</id><published>2008-08-28T13:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T15:04:47.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pool time</title><content type='html'>We had an amazing time at my friends pool! It is fantastic to have a big cold wet thing to dive into on a day like today, when it is 99 degrees out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so nice to have a more fair ratio between children and adults. lol Also Bree is at a great age where if I throw a blanket or towel down just about any where I have created an instant play mat. It is great to finally have a baby who can entertain herself and wiggle around on her own. She even got to put on her big girl one piece suit. It is still a bit roomy, seeing as it in meant for a 6-12 month old, but she was rocking the cuteness non the less.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL24PC7pazI/AAAAAAAAACI/zBfbwimDX_E/s1600-h/My+camera+110.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL24PC7pazI/AAAAAAAAACI/zBfbwimDX_E/s200/My+camera+110.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241548109953723186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL236_fr4aI/AAAAAAAAAB4/EeqYiCw6Bvg/s1600-h/My+camera+123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL236_fr4aI/AAAAAAAAAB4/EeqYiCw6Bvg/s200/My+camera+123.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241547765433754018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL237EqOEmI/AAAAAAAAACA/MLEBAi0LVYU/s1600-h/My+camera+144.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL237EqOEmI/AAAAAAAAACA/MLEBAi0LVYU/s200/My+camera+144.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241547766820115042" 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/6855277444189432424-1283973326608148859?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1283973326608148859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=1283973326608148859' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1283973326608148859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1283973326608148859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/pool-time.html' title='Pool time'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SL24PC7pazI/AAAAAAAAACI/zBfbwimDX_E/s72-c/My+camera+110.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-1497278852399895610</id><published>2008-08-26T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T20:18:27.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guest</title><content type='html'>I have been MIA for a bit because my friend from Australia arrived by train (from LA not Australia) on Sunday afternoon. And she is pretty fabulous so she has kept me on my toes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited to see her! I even fussed over what Bree was going to wear so she would look super cute for introductions and took the car to the car wash . . . so you know this is serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaun is entertaining Taya with the Wii at the moment so I have a chance to fill you in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started like this . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like those old romantic movies where the lovers have not seen one another for years. I was sitting on the bench all a twitter when the train pulled in (It was a sunny day so there was no rain or steam emerging from the train as it pulled in but you make due with what you have.) and there she was all blonde and smiles .  . time melted away and it was three years age. We were young girls frolicking across the Canadian country side. (we met at University in Quebec) I had to keep myself in check though because the husband and baby were with me, sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been making the most of our sweet time together even since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been so wonderful to have a mate to spend my days with. We have gone down to the park and laid out a blanket where Bree can practice crawling and squirming around and we can escape the heat under a tree and just gab. We walked to get smoothies and to enjoy the feel of the sun on our backs. We have spent our nights playing tennis (real tennis, like outside), going for ice cream, and having game nights. Our morning in SLO shopping was fantastic. (Shaun is keen to go shopping with me if I ask but it is just not the same as going with a girl who is actually having fun.) lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all our days have been sublime and I am looking forward to the next five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep you posted. :)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SLYY2ZKPnWI/AAAAAAAAABQ/xMEuJavChnA/s1600-h/My+camera+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SLYY2ZKPnWI/AAAAAAAAABQ/xMEuJavChnA/s320/My+camera+031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239402539238006114" 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/6855277444189432424-1497278852399895610?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1497278852399895610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=1497278852399895610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1497278852399895610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1497278852399895610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/guest.html' title='Guest'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WtSItrwlhU/SLYY2ZKPnWI/AAAAAAAAABQ/xMEuJavChnA/s72-c/My+camera+031.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-273184641223786584</id><published>2008-08-21T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T20:33:41.988-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Husbands</title><content type='html'>I was having a really rough day over this past weekend.  was losing it probably because I was tired and that made me cranky but and not much fun to be around. So what does my husband do? Once the baby was asleep he pulled me into the living room, laid me on the floor, and proceeded to give me a full back massage, including butt and legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a guy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad that husband are called to love their wives like Christ loved the church and not to treat us the way we deserve to be treated. And I am pretty sure if the church were a person Jesus would definitely give that person a message to bring them out of their grumpy mood!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-273184641223786584?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/273184641223786584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=273184641223786584' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/273184641223786584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/273184641223786584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-was-having-really-rough-day-over-this.html' title='Husbands'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-3232235300276886209</id><published>2008-08-21T15:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T16:03:16.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Car</title><content type='html'>So we have been operating with one car for awhile now and it has its pluses and minuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pluses:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being nice to the environment by sparing it one less car emitting pollution&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spending less money&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;realizing that I almost always use the car to go places then require me to spend money&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting super excited when I do decide to take Shaun (the husband) to work so we (me and the baby) can have the car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting good exercise and time outdoors by walking to the store&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minuses:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being drenched in sweat, getting heat stroke, and wanting to pass out because we walked to the store! (it pretty toasty here in the summer)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes going well, a little crazy . . .&lt;br /&gt;(that will happen when you spend all day with an infant in a condo that has less then 800 square feet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Today was one of those super exciting days when I got to hang out in SLO. I dropped Shaun at work and drove down town. Of course Aubrey had just fallen asleep and normally I feel guilty and don't want to wake her by stopping the car but not today baby! Today was our day in SLO. So I pulled the baby out of her comfy seat and tossed her in the ergo and off we went.&lt;br /&gt;(Side note: I had no idea what I was doing when I bought my baby carrier and I feel for the ergo because it was made from organic fibers and looked so hip and hippy. And before I knew it I had bought a very expensive baby carrier where the baby can only face inward and of course I have a baby who loves to face outwards! To solve this for the time being I just put her in standing up facing out. It works fine for now because she is small and doesn't mind having her feet squished. Bless her heart)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was excited to get a Starbucks latte, because I had a gift certificate, but that was about all I had planned. There was another Mom in there with a cute little girl all wrapped up in a moby style carrie. We made eye contact like Mom's do and smiled and that was it.  I grabbed my drink and headed out to enjoy my morning down town. It is rare that I am downtown now so I had no idea what to do next! I zig zagged in front on Starbucks for a bit changing my mind about where to head next when the Mom I saw before called out to me from her table and asked if I was just hanging out. Apparently I looked as lost as I felt. lol I said yes and she invited me over to sit with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked for about an hour and she turned out to be this great woman and we had a ton in common, granted we have only talked about our kids so far but as I'm sure you know opinion about child rearing can vary quit a bit! I got her number and am looking forward to calling her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I am writing about this is because it was a big deal for me. It is hard for me to justify going to SLO and today I just felt like we made the right decision. It was one of those days when I felt like I was really making the decision that God wanted me to. I just felt on. I didn't go back in forth about whether I should go to SLO and drive Shaun and myself crazy. I am really good at that by the way. I'm talking real natural talent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the one car subject. Turns out today having one car was a blessing. I got a latte, had a great conversation, meet a potential friend, snuggled with my baby, bought a new shirt, and got to feel like I was living this day in sink with God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to pick up the hubby and go to Farmers Market. What a great end to a fantastic day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-3232235300276886209?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3232235300276886209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=3232235300276886209' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/3232235300276886209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/3232235300276886209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/car.html' title='Car'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-1613081386729390032</id><published>2008-08-08T10:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T20:33:23.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Then there were two . . .</title><content type='html'>We are without the baby for two whole days. I meet up with my Mom yesterday half way between our two houses and we swapped. I gave her our only off spring in return for some pots. I'm starting to wonder is the trade was all the fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So besides doing some planting in my new pots I have a whole lot of free time on my hands. And let me tell you, it feels good. At first I had no idea what to do with my self. Everything I used to do seems frivolous and silly and well it all is compared to raising another human being! I'm going to need to let that comparison go or else I'll not do a single thing this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did come up with a few things that sound pretty good though&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep in (the husband is doing that right now)&lt;br /&gt;Got to the Beach&lt;br /&gt;Play a game of Tennis&lt;br /&gt;Pet the Cat (who is sorely under loved since the baby came along)&lt;br /&gt;Eat Out (a very yummy idea)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss her like crazy but I know how good it is for us to get these days to renew our strength. Having kids changes your life forever no doubt about it. So I am taking this weekend to turn back the clock. Travel back in time to the summer before we were married. When we were young and had no real responsibilities. We are going to rock this weekend like it is 2006!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And take some good naps in between . . .  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-1613081386729390032?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1613081386729390032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=1613081386729390032' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1613081386729390032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/1613081386729390032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-then-there-were-two.html' title='Then there were two . . .'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-884382147742855764</id><published>2008-08-05T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T20:33:04.422-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>All of those Mom's out there know what it is like to be woken out of a tasty midnight slumber by the cries of a little baby. Depending on where she catches me in my sleep cycle I feel differently about having to wake up and tend to her. Buy last night made all the interrupted snoozies worth while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went into her room and lifted her out of her crib to feed her. She was so tried and all she wanted was to eat and go back to sleep. When she was all done I just held her a bit as she slept on my chest. It was one of those profound moment in my relationship with her where I really felt like she needed me. It was pretty magical. I love knowing that when it come down to it, I am all she needs right now. I got the food, I got the love, and I am pretty dang entertaining to a four month old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-884382147742855764?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/884382147742855764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=884382147742855764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/884382147742855764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/884382147742855764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/all-of-those-moms-out-there-know-what.html' title='Love'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6855277444189432424.post-7697963666303750915</id><published>2008-08-04T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T14:52:30.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In The Beginning .  . .</title><content type='html'>So I think I might be ready to tackle this whole blogging thing. A couple things have stopped me in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the fist being lack of time: Becoming a stay at home Mom to an infant took care of that one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the second: being a little weirded out by stranger knowing the usually some what private inner workings of my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the third: feeling that the private inner working of my mind might not be ready for blog prime time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still feeling a little "iffy" about the second two road blocks but after some encouragement from my favorite partner in crime (rachel) I am ready to give it a shot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I should use this first post introduce myself and my mission:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a wife and a mom and a follower of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep . . . right now those are pretty much the three big things that define me and consume a lot of my time at the moment. lol I'm trying to figure out how to fill all these roles more beautifully, gracefully, and completely every day. My hope is that this blog will help me do that and will also bless some other people along the way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6855277444189432424-7697963666303750915?l=numnumlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7697963666303750915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6855277444189432424&amp;postID=7697963666303750915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/7697963666303750915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6855277444189432424/posts/default/7697963666303750915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://numnumlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/in-beginning.html' title='In The Beginning .  . .'/><author><name>Erin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16883873997592609980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_VmRq5YsLV4/TbnsfvmyANI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4KAHIsuVX9E/s220/hellar_fam_0065.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
