<?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-8865417736132877647</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:06:31.768-07:00</updated><category term='african american'/><category term='unconditional love'/><category term='black'/><category term='barack obama'/><category term='inauguration'/><category term='pregnancy'/><category term='pubic snynopsis disorder'/><category term='innocence'/><category term='genealogy'/><category term='child abuse'/><title type='text'>Afros, Twists, and Smiles</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lady E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08064102315794704689</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXaDHrZwz6I/AAAAAAAAACo/ZVMZeYP0OI8/S220/007.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865417736132877647.post-3037870410022562217</id><published>2009-04-07T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T18:34:54.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Months for Ellasyn!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv58reaU8I/AAAAAAAAAGw/Lnw8udMg_TY/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322122205526119362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv58reaU8I/AAAAAAAAAGw/Lnw8udMg_TY/s320/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sweet Elle is half a year old!! I just can't believe how time is flying.   I have been sooo enjoying having a little girl and am excited to see her everyday.  I know it may sound corny, but it's true.  She is one of the most wonderful people I know.  It helps that she doesn't talk, wak, destroy anything, or make too much of a ruckus, at least she doesn't with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has grown so much!  She was only 6lbs and 9 oz at birth, a little skinny thing.  I was afraid, not of anything in particular, but just because she was so little.  I'd never seen a baby as little as she.  Ky was 8lbs at birth and I thought he was small.  Those two lbs and ozs really make a difference though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle has always been tough though.  She fought me every time I tried to feed her, as if she started out life ready to fight her way through it.  When she was in the womb, every time they showed her on ultrasound, she had her fist up.  She keeps them up to this day and though she is very congenial, sweet and just an all around perfect baby, she likes things her way and will fight when need be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiles a lot.  I love her gummy smile above the best, but  her grins are great too!  She has learned how to roll from her tummy to her back, but hasn't figured out how to get fully around yet.  She can sit up if I place her on her bottom.  She'll sit unassisted for about 30 seconds before falling over and laughing.  I think she believes sitting and falling over is a game, she gets a real kick out of it.  She also makes a bunch of interesting faces that I think are just so precious, hence, why her nickname of sorts is Precious Girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I get tempted to compare her to other babies, like I used to do with Ky.  He could sit up by himself and crawl by the time he was six months, but Elle is lazy and is content to just sit or stand and look at people.  I really don't care what other people's babies are doing, because I think she is way better than most babies, regardless of what she can or can't do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe how fast these six months have passed.  Here's some pics of my sweet baby girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorites from our at-home photoshoot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv58uYcAII/AAAAAAAAAGo/wj-x6ODwy30/s1600-h/ellasyn%2520w-%2520border%2520bw%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322122206306369666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv58uYcAII/AAAAAAAAAGo/wj-x6ODwy30/s320/ellasyn%2520w-%2520border%2520bw%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy that she's eating sweet potatoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv58XBft4I/AAAAAAAAAGg/gxvm_38SXuo/s1600-h/096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322122200036128642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv58XBft4I/AAAAAAAAAGg/gxvm_38SXuo/s320/096.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting up and staring at the orange light on the camera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv4ZPDA3DI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/okS1tonVAeU/s1600-h/171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322120497087962162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv4ZPDA3DI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/okS1tonVAeU/s320/171.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Elle with one of her favorite people in the world Ky&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv4YWl3rdI/AAAAAAAAAF4/zAvJ6vrgo9Y/s1600-h/058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322120481933340114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv4YWl3rdI/AAAAAAAAAF4/zAvJ6vrgo9Y/s320/058.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How she usually looks...eating fingers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv0i7RoK8I/AAAAAAAAAFw/1FtaMDmrgTQ/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322116265532730306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv0i7RoK8I/AAAAAAAAAFw/1FtaMDmrgTQ/s320/033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorites of our shoot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv0ir3b2pI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ONITAsTAVFg/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322116261396339346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv0ir3b2pI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ONITAsTAVFg/s320/025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Showing off her precious expressions and little toes and feet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv0iZ31Y6I/AAAAAAAAAFg/DSWz-wOBins/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322116256566174626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv0iZ31Y6I/AAAAAAAAAFg/DSWz-wOBins/s320/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8865417736132877647-3037870410022562217?l=afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/feeds/3037870410022562217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/04/six-months-for-ellasyn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/3037870410022562217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/3037870410022562217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/04/six-months-for-ellasyn.html' title='Six Months for Ellasyn!!'/><author><name>Lady E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08064102315794704689</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXaDHrZwz6I/AAAAAAAAACo/ZVMZeYP0OI8/S220/007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/Sdv58reaU8I/AAAAAAAAAGw/Lnw8udMg_TY/s72-c/006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865417736132877647.post-3523451352670450377</id><published>2009-03-18T17:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T18:07:39.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faster than you can say WOW and other Ky-isms</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWS8_NTOI/AAAAAAAAAFI/PMbxRCMER4s/s1600-h/142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314694287626947810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWS8_NTOI/AAAAAAAAAFI/PMbxRCMER4s/s320/142.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ky has been saying this phrase for about a month now and it always cracks me up. He tells me: "Mommy, I can get upstairs faster than you can say wow!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Of course, I just say wow and tell him: "You aren't upstairs yet," then laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gets all upset and wants me to try it again. Today he actually made it upstairs, but he cheated since he was on the last step so that doesn't count. It's still funny though, and cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I noticed a scratch on his ankle. He always has mysterious marks all over his body. I don't know where they come from. Some are not so mysterious lumps and bumbs and really if people didn't know he was so clumsy they would probably think he was being abused or something. Once on Christmas he walked into a wall and got a huge lump on his head like someone had hit him with a frying pan. There were about twelve people at Kan's cousin's house who were just shocked that he walked into the wall that loud and hard. But that's my Ky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But back to the mark....He said he didn't know where the scratch came from. That "maybe vampires did it," and he looked so serious. I could just see images of evil ankle biting vampires floating around his mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tries to scare people. He told my mom that a ghost lived in our extra bedroom. The wind blows the door shut all the time and my mom is one to believe in spirits so it was freaky to her and scared her a little. He told her in a sixth sense, whispery voice, probably for full effect. When I asked him about it, he said he likes to pretend about ghosts. He knows they aren't real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told his grandma, my dear sweet mother in law, that our dogs knew how to escape their barrier in the kitchen and go upstairs into the room she stayed in when she visited. She is deathly afraid of dogs and most animals, so she was jumpy the whole time she was here, thinking the dogs were going to come upstairs while she was asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should punish him for his -isms, but I like them. He is such a riot and such a fun guy. I already think about how I am going to miss him when he grows up and goes to college. And I wonder how he'll change and am frightened that he'll lose his nice-ness, his silliness, himself. I threaten him all the time that he better still be his nice, sweet self when he gets older or I'll beat him up. I'm just kidding of course (yes....of course I'm kidding). But I think about how time is just flying by and faster than I can say wow, he'll be gone and I'll be wondering where all the years went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now here are some pics of my sweet boy and company&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Children's Museum Atlanta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWShaGtUI/AAAAAAAAAFA/UVSNP3FzmKk/s1600-h/088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314694280223569218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWShaGtUI/AAAAAAAAAFA/UVSNP3FzmKk/s320/088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comforting baby sister Elle after a car ride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWSQPKt9I/AAAAAAAAAE4/S_z8Zsiy6hY/s1600-h/067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314694275614291922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWSQPKt9I/AAAAAAAAAE4/S_z8Zsiy6hY/s320/067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ky and Zion at their Belt Ceremony for jiu-jitsu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWSC9zj1I/AAAAAAAAAEw/IbXiiohdgZA/s1600-h/065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314694272051810130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWSC9zj1I/AAAAAAAAAEw/IbXiiohdgZA/s320/065.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How most of his pictures end up looking LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWRlhl3_I/AAAAAAAAAEo/MpLs7-6da-Y/s1600-h/144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314694264148844530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWRlhl3_I/AAAAAAAAAEo/MpLs7-6da-Y/s320/144.JPG" 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/8865417736132877647-3523451352670450377?l=afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/feeds/3523451352670450377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/03/faster-than-you-can-say-wow-and-other.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/3523451352670450377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/3523451352670450377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/03/faster-than-you-can-say-wow-and-other.html' title='Faster than you can say WOW and other Ky-isms'/><author><name>Lady E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08064102315794704689</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXaDHrZwz6I/AAAAAAAAACo/ZVMZeYP0OI8/S220/007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/ScGWS8_NTOI/AAAAAAAAAFI/PMbxRCMER4s/s72-c/142.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865417736132877647.post-5050718673821980181</id><published>2009-02-24T17:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T18:14:52.234-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unconditional love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pubic snynopsis disorder'/><title type='text'>What's Love got to do with it??? A Rant!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSm_g1WC8I/AAAAAAAAAEg/t7xSpRKzoeI/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306549871024933826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSm_g1WC8I/AAAAAAAAAEg/t7xSpRKzoeI/s320/024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not always known that I was loved. I imagine since I have a relatively large family, that as a baby and young child, I was surrounded by people who loved and cared about me. I have seen pictures of people playing with me as a baby, of my mother cuddling me, of me receiving hugs and kisses. But, like a lot of people, I felt a little lost when I came into my adolescence. I felt a feeling of abandonment. Covered by pimples, gaining weight, glasses, all made me feel self conscious about myself, and though I had been told countless times how pretty I was, how I had beautiful eyes, that I was smart and thoughtful, all those compliments crashed into my eardrums and bounced back out into the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's Day passed a couple of weeks ago. I have never considered it a holiday that encompases love. For me, it is more of a commercial occasion, one that the "man" has made up so that we will spend our money on our betrothes in an effort to show them how much we care about them. Kan did not buy me anything and I didn't expect him to. Instead of receiving gifts once or twice a year, I'd like to receive something when someone is thinking of me. Unfortunately, that rarely happens. I don 't even buy myself a lot of things as I don't want to chance not having money to pay the bills. But I did expect to have someone tell me Happy Valentine's Day and give me a genuine hug and kiss. Instead, I was betrayed on this holiday of love. I'm not going to go into details, but I was hurt and saddened on this day by my husband, who is suppose to love me unconditionally. The whole day made me feel self conscious again, how I am not good enough. It almost made me forget how beautiful I am. This feeling was why I haven't written here in a while. I have been sorting through some things and coming to terms with myself. I still have not completely sorted out everything, but I have come to realize that I am the most important person in my life. Though I love my dear children, they need me to focus on myself so that I can be a better mother to them, so I can show them my love even when they are no longer cute and cuddly. I need to feel that I am the strong person that I am, that I deserve to be loved unconditionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have still been trying to get over the sense of loss I felt after giving birth to Elle. She was a planned baby. I have always wanted a little girl and am so happy that I have her now. Kan always wanted to have more children as well and since I never wanted to have any after I turn thirty (as I want to be a "Hot Mama" when I'm fifty without being bothered too much by my kids) we decided to go ahead and get pregnant in 2007. It took about 8 months for us to conceive Elle and I was very happy and Kan was happy, but when I started to get sick from nausea and hip pain from pubic synopsis disorder, we started not to communicate as much as we usually do. I was also still in school during my pregnancy and it was difficult for me to be so tired and sick and in pain while walking through campus in the heat. It took a huge toll on me. I would be in such pain that I could not do anything at home besides rest and all the rest I got was not enough. Kan never took any initiative to help me out at home and really I was so pissed about that. I am still upset about it. We both knew that I would have to have another c-section and about a month before the surgery was scheduled, he decided he wanted to become a professional boxer. I was upset about this too and told him as he knew that I was going to need him to help me after Elle's birth. He seemed to not care about this and it hurt me deeply. I am also still hurt about this. He rarely helped out with the housework and our house became a mess. After she was born, he had to go to a boxing gym further away from the house to train and did not get home most nights until 9 or 10 o'clock when I really needed his help. I developed a horrible infection and my incision did not heal completely until the beginning of January. Elle was born at the end of September. Because of these complications, I was told by my doctor not to do any strenuous exercise or lift anything heavier than the baby, so my plans for starting to work out had to be delayed until I was completely healed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Valentine's Day, lots of things were discussed between Kan and I. The most hurtful one being that he said I was not attractive to him. That I had gained too much weight. Before giving birth to Elle, I had lost 55lbs, which I was very proud of. If I had not had so many complications after her birth, some being because I was doing too much like driving, housework, and other chores that I should not have been doing because he wasn't around, I would have started to lose weight and tone up earlier. He made me feel disgusting. He also made me feel disgusted toward him. I mean, how could he say something about the way I look when I just had his baby and been through so much. I could understand if I went a couple years without trying to get into better health, but only 4 months!!! It just sickens me and will take a lot for me to forgive him not only for these comments so close to the birth of our baby, but also how he has been so absent these past few months. I shouldn't be upset because at least he is being honest and I always tell him to be honest with me, even if he thinks it will hurt my feelings, but I really do think he should have kept his mouth shut about it right now. We have talked through this and I have told him what I feel about the situation, but really, I don't think that he gets it. It seems like all the men in my life are selfish bastards. They only think about their feelings or how something will affect them. Why can't someone else be a priority sometimes? I don't know. But it just disgust me when he shows this side of himself. I still love him but it seems like little pieces of my love flake away every time he does something or says something like this. I don't feel unconditionally loved, something I feel for him. He is not "all that" by any means, but I don't even see the physicality of him, I love &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt;, not the way he looks. Sometimes I don't belive these feelings are reciprocated, though he assures me that they are. I just don't believe it and hopefully these feelings will get felt enough by me so that they will leave me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I am still reeling and going through so much, I don't know what else to say about it. Just like I have stopped talking to him about it. Maybe I will think of something else later. But for right now, here are the loves of my life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ky being his silly self&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSeUnJQ1KI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/3MiIcXXLHGo/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306540337891693730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSeUnJQ1KI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/3MiIcXXLHGo/s320/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle all cuddle up getting ready to nap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSeUbRHo_I/AAAAAAAAAEI/4X2tyx_su1I/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306540334703420402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSeUbRHo_I/AAAAAAAAAEI/4X2tyx_su1I/s320/025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful pic an online friend did for me of Elle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSeUDr7C-I/AAAAAAAAAEA/odJin2qoS50/s1600-h/Ellasyn_VDay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306540328373390306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSeUDr7C-I/AAAAAAAAAEA/odJin2qoS50/s320/Ellasyn_VDay.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My funny babies&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSeUDMFW6I/AAAAAAAAAD4/vpuGz9GVEOc/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306540328239848354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSeUDMFW6I/AAAAAAAAAD4/vpuGz9GVEOc/s320/027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8865417736132877647-5050718673821980181?l=afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/feeds/5050718673821980181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/02/whats-love-got-to-do-with-it-rant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/5050718673821980181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/5050718673821980181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/02/whats-love-got-to-do-with-it-rant.html' title='What&apos;s Love got to do with it??? A Rant!!!'/><author><name>Lady E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08064102315794704689</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXaDHrZwz6I/AAAAAAAAACo/ZVMZeYP0OI8/S220/007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SaSm_g1WC8I/AAAAAAAAAEg/t7xSpRKzoeI/s72-c/024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865417736132877647.post-3216672735514752589</id><published>2009-01-29T21:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T21:33:53.456-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='innocence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='child abuse'/><title type='text'>Innocence</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SYKQE7lafxI/AAAAAAAAADA/VvqjqM8ndUM/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296954526129618706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SYKQE7lafxI/AAAAAAAAADA/VvqjqM8ndUM/s320/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In two weeks it will be Ky's seventh birthday. Seven has always been my favorite number. Maybe this stems from the many trips I made for slushies to 7/11 as a child. It may also be because of the phrase "lucky seven." But seven has always been something to look forward to for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I was seven years old, it was the happiest year of my childhood that I can remember. We lived down the street from one of my aunts, so my older brother and I got to visit her and our cousins on a regular basis. There was a park, well really, a playground on the corner with a merry-go-round, which was big, metal, whirling fun. My parents broke up when I was seven, something, unlike other children, made me happy. They always used to fight and it literally made me ill to the stomach so I was excited when they seperated. It was also before my mom became involved with R, her first husband who abused me and my older brother and shattered the innocence I felt in my seventh year. Though I have forgiven all those involved in that far away period of my life, I am reminded of my innocence as Ky's birthday approaches.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I vividly remember Ky as a baby. He was and still is a beautiful boy. His eyes were big and round like Elle's. He was always happy, just like he is today most of the time. He was my joy through a lot of difficult moments. His feet were soft. His hands were pudgy. He had kissable chubby cheeks. He was perfection. I still see him this way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wonder if I was ever looked upon like that. Perfection. I wonder how, if I was looked on as the perfect, innocent girl I was, how someone would consciously choose to harm me in such a way. I know that I was sexually molested, but don't remember the details of what happened. My child mind is still protecting me from the memories, something I am grateful for, as I don't want to remember. Who wants to remember potentially horrible things? But, I know that the years I was abused damaged me in such a way that my life took on a different path. I feel that it (my life) is suppose to be on this path, but can't help but wonder what would have been changed if the abuse I suffered had not occurred.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now my son, my sweet baby boy, is turning lucky number seven. I hope that I will continue to see his perfection. That just because his cheeks are no longer chubby, his hands are long with slender fingers, his feet are starting to callous, that I will still see him as beautiful and know that he needs protection. His eyes are still big and round. They remind me of both of our innocence as long as they still look back at me, I know I won't forget and that he will always be my joy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8865417736132877647-3216672735514752589?l=afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/feeds/3216672735514752589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/01/innocence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/3216672735514752589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/3216672735514752589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/01/innocence.html' title='Innocence'/><author><name>Lady E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08064102315794704689</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXaDHrZwz6I/AAAAAAAAACo/ZVMZeYP0OI8/S220/007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SYKQE7lafxI/AAAAAAAAADA/VvqjqM8ndUM/s72-c/013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865417736132877647.post-3014990163940957864</id><published>2009-01-20T17:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T18:04:02.593-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='african american'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='barack obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='genealogy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inauguration'/><title type='text'>A Beautiful Day, Every Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXZ8njMALdI/AAAAAAAAACg/1BoVkOkF4Rs/s1600-h/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Elle, always beautiful, the world at her fingertips!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXZ8mTgtLdI/AAAAAAAAACI/KjiVibNfMDk/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293555409534922194" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXZ8mTgtLdI/AAAAAAAAACI/KjiVibNfMDk/s320/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I did nothing except watch the inauguration. I wasn't planning on spending my day watching the inauguration and the tons of coverage that all the stations broadcasted, but a few minutes before President Obama took the podium, I felt tears well up in my eyes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The fact that I shed a tear over this ceremony is beyond strange to me. I know a lot of people, especially African Americans have been expressing a great sense of joy about Pres. Obama's victory in the election and could not wait until his swearing-in ceremony. Although I did vote for him and am a supporter of his plans, I have not had any strong emotions regarding this inauguration until today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some people, including Kan and my dad did not understand these feelings. I tried to explain it to Dad. I am our family historian. I have delved deep into the background of our genealogy, something that is very difficult when one is black in America. I found ancestors that were slaves, that have been in this country since the early 1800s. I'm sure if I had the material, I cold find distant members of my family that were here in 1700s as well.  (I do aim to do further research in the upcoming year and hopefully I am successful at my quest).  Seeing my surname on the 1870 census, visually soaking in the ages, location, and children of my great great great great grandparents, was and still is surreal.  I come from people who were seen as cattle.  They had so many hopes and dreams.  Though I am not religious, I know that I am the fulfillment of their prayers.  They worked, toiled, struggled.  They were beaten, some had children listed as mullatoes and may have been raped.  They uprooted all their belongings and travelled hundreds of miles without cars, with little money.  They trekked toward opportunity for their children.  I know that I have the world at my fingers.  If I want something and I have the drive to pursue my dreams, I know that I can achieve anything.  I knew this before this beautiful day.  I guess some may not have known it, but it is something that has accompanied me all my life.  Through every hardship, I myself have endured, I have always known that I live in a great country, a land of opportunity, that my people, my family, were an integral part of the success that is America.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For a while, I did not feel that Pres. Obama was a part of this legacy.  When he was running for his office, a lot of African Americans said that he "wasn't black enough."  Though I never shared their sentiments, I did feel after his election, after witnessing all these black people extolling this man, that he had not struggled the way my family has struggled.  I felt something must be wrong with me because I saw his lineage as apart from mine.  The white part of his family, I am sure endured their own struggles as, contrary to what a lot of black folks seem to think, most white people are not rich or well off.  Some are drowning in poverty just like African Americans.  But, I felt that he, being the first black president, was somehow different.  His family had not experienced slavery in this country.  They were not raped, seen as subservient, they had not been here for hundreds of years, or built the infrastructure of America from the ground up, with no recognition.  But today,  I saw him as something more than an American.  I saw myself as more than American.  I remembered that Kenyans suffered just as much, if not more than my own black ancestors.  I thought of their joy at his achievements.  I thought of his white family's joy at his achievement and this joy was contagious.  I could see how it had invaded the country during that moment.  It spread from my chest, making my heart beat faster, to my throat, choking me up, to my eyes and tears actually fell from my eyes over this day.  This beautiful day, like all days, where there is always an opportunity for greatness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8865417736132877647-3014990163940957864?l=afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/feeds/3014990163940957864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/01/beautiful-day-every-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/3014990163940957864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/3014990163940957864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/01/beautiful-day-every-day.html' title='A Beautiful Day, Every Day'/><author><name>Lady E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08064102315794704689</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXaDHrZwz6I/AAAAAAAAACo/ZVMZeYP0OI8/S220/007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXZ8mTgtLdI/AAAAAAAAACI/KjiVibNfMDk/s72-c/012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865417736132877647.post-8048419482970967024</id><published>2009-01-13T16:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T21:49:41.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Days of Our Lives</title><content type='html'>Mom and Ell&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SW17FHYi2KI/AAAAAAAAAB4/2jMispxsI_w/s1600-h/016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291020465041758370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SW17FHYi2KI/AAAAAAAAAB4/2jMispxsI_w/s320/016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today was an uneventful day, like usual, thank goodness! I don't like a lot of drama so our lazy days are fine by me. The school system decided to have only a half day today, so Ky got out of school at 11:30 am, which I think is really stupid and ridiculous. They might as well have taken the whole day off. We are suppose to have another half day next month. I'm just not going to send Ky on that day as it is a waste of my time and my gas, since I drive him to and from school. Plus, Elle takes her longest nap of the day between 9am and 12:30 and since she decided to play with me this morning she didn't get down for her nap until 10. I had to wake her at 11 and she was not a happy baby camper. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Recently, Elle has noticed that she has feet. More importantly, her feet can kick. She is amazed and stares at her toes quite often. She has also taken to kicking a lot, especially at her bouncer toys.  I tried to post a video portraying the first time that she noticed that she could kick her bouncer toys. Though it only last for about 5 minutes, she continued to kick, laugh, smile, and get highly stimulated for almost 2 hours. It was taken about 2 weeks ago, a few days before my mom and youngest brother came to visit.  But unfortunately, our housegues got on our computer and interrupted the upload and it was taking such a long time that I don't want to try it again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I had a great time with my mom. Sometimes I wished she lived closer or we lived closer so I could visit her more often. I don't have many friends anymore in the real world as most of them were users, and they got on my nerves so I had to cut them off. Maybe it's sad, but my mom is one of my best friends, her, my dad, and Kan. It may be pathetic, but it cuts out the unwanted drama in my life. People are hard to get along with so I try to limit how many are in my life, right now I want to focus on my kids, my health, and my marriage, not somebody else's love life, or what they need to do, or where they need to go, or helping people, or giving advice ALL the time. I enjoy myself and being by myself for the most part. I used to make myself hang out with people, but now, eh, socializing is not all that important and when I need some company, I can call my aunt or just go somewhere by myself and meet some people.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;While Mom was here, we took Ky to the park and there were actually some kids playing on that day, so we stayed about 2 hours so Ky could play with them. I decided I wanted to get on the spinning merry-go-round thing and have Ky spin me around. When you grow up, you forget how to hold on to playground equipment and I hilariously (not sure if that's a word???) fell off the merry-go-round, but promptly got back up and suceeded in spinning about 30 times on my second try. Unfortunately, my leg hit the merry-go-round on the way to the ground and I now have a buise on my shin, but we had fun and a little pain lets me know I am still alive.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This past week, I have been thinking a lot about myself, health wise and career wise. I decided to just do what I initially wanted to do with my life in terms of a career. Though I love my kiddos and love that I am able to stay home with Ell for her babyhood. I like to get out of the house and I like to keep busy in something other than housework, which I LOATHE! For the past 6 months or so, I had almost convinced myself to just go and get a teaching certificate and start teaching next year so I can make some money. But, that's not what I want for myself, I've always wanted to get a Ph.D. and teach on the college level. Plus, the problems that I had with the rogue police officer 3 years ago and the charges that were attached to my arrest record, still have not been fully expunged, even though they were dismissed, so I would have to make sure that is completely done before applying for a teaching license. So, I have finally cracked open my GRE book and am studying vocab and math concepts that I haven't seen since high school. Though I was always good at math, one forgets about diameters, areas, and such when one doesn't use this information being an English major in college. I hope to get at least a 1300 on the GRE and get into my first choice school so that I won't have to pay anything for my Ph.D. studies. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;On the health front, I've fallen off the wagon on my exercise, though I have been eating okay. I have been suffering from some insomnia and it has been impacting my desire to work out. I know that I'll just have to suck it up and just be tired for a week, but I hate feeling tired. I'm just going to have to deal with it though. I feel like my lack of exercise is the reason why I can't sleep anyway. It's a shame as Elle has been sleeping a good 8 hours for the last 6-7 weeks so I really have no excuse for my fatigue and lack of sleep. Sigh, I'll do a dreaded video tomorrow since my treadmill is broken. I've been looking to getting into body building so I'll have some muscle to eat away all of this fat on my body, but I'll speak on that another day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8865417736132877647-8048419482970967024?l=afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/feeds/8048419482970967024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/01/days-of-our-lives.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/8048419482970967024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/8048419482970967024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/01/days-of-our-lives.html' title='The Days of Our Lives'/><author><name>Lady E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08064102315794704689</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXaDHrZwz6I/AAAAAAAAACo/ZVMZeYP0OI8/S220/007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SW17FHYi2KI/AAAAAAAAAB4/2jMispxsI_w/s72-c/016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865417736132877647.post-1009745398862053034</id><published>2009-01-05T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T19:45:03.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Will I be sore tomorrow??</title><content type='html'>So, attempted to start my workout routine again today.  Well, I guess I didn't attempt since I did work out, but I am much more out of shape than I thought I was.  I struggled to get through 30 minutes of cardio on the treadmill.  I only jogged a total of MAYBE 5 minutes out of the 30 and it was still a struggle.  I'm going to keep at it though and hope that I gain ground quickly with my workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, Kan broke my treadmill with his heavy feet while he was training for his boxing match. I mentioned this to my mom today on the phone and he seemed to get offended by this, but hey, people have heavy feet sometimes, especially men.  They bound and jump and pound all through the house.  I figure it's some sort of caveman, macho thing leftover from early Cro-magnon days.  Kan also restarted his own routine today at the boxing gym.  He lost a lot of weight over the past year and got into good shape and I hope he keeps it up.  But, now I need a new treadmill and since I'm so cheap, I don't want to buy one with our tax return.  Yet, I know that I cannot lose any weight without the treadmill.  I don't like videos and even though I don't like exercise in general, I don't mind the treadmill so much as the annoying gurus on most exercise DVDs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was Ky's first day back at school since Christmas vacation.  He was excited to go back and tell all his friends about the toys her got.  I kind of feel bad that he doesn't have anyone his age around to share his excitement with most of the time.  I never wanted to have kids close together as I wanted to have a break from diaper duty, but sometimes I think that he is cheated out of so much by living down south away from our families and snow and a neighborhood where kids go out to play.  It bothers me that kids no longer like to go out and play much.  Here in the metro area, you hardly ever see kids out playing at all.  When I take Ky and El to the park, they are usually the only kids there.  Whenever we get lucky and there is someone else there, I always make sure to stay an extra long time so Ky can have some fun.  It's great that he likes school so much, even if the main reason is to go and see his friends.  He had a good day today though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El was just her usual cute, chunky self.  She was smiley this morning like she always is and spent the day nursing, peeing, and pooping once.  She is getting SO big though.  Kan said she looked fatter today than yesterday.  He's also worried that she looks so much like him, thinking that she may not be that attractive of a woman when she's grown.  Though I was kind of peeved that she came out looking exactly like him, I'm not too worried about how she'll look when she's older since Kan looks like his mom anyway and she's a cute lady.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8865417736132877647-1009745398862053034?l=afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/feeds/1009745398862053034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/01/will-i-be-sore-tomorrow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/1009745398862053034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/1009745398862053034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/01/will-i-be-sore-tomorrow.html' title='Will I be sore tomorrow??'/><author><name>Lady E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08064102315794704689</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXaDHrZwz6I/AAAAAAAAACo/ZVMZeYP0OI8/S220/007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865417736132877647.post-821466312262119563</id><published>2009-01-04T18:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T19:19:45.074-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6sq0imXI/AAAAAAAAABI/BdFTxmekI9A/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287642345337166194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6sq0imXI/AAAAAAAAABI/BdFTxmekI9A/s320/035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's taken a while for me to find the blog again, but here I am!!! Back in action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I will start eating better and exercising once again. Last time I was weighed at the doctor I was shocked at how much I weigh now. I knew that as soon as I got the clear from my OB that I would start back again at devouring this extra weight. I'm not to worried about failing at my weightloss since I don't do diets. I realized a few years ago that diets don't work for me. So now I only limit my sugar intake and fried foods and try to eat 10 fruits/veggies per day. Usually that includes 7 servings of veggies and 3 of fruit. In 2007 I lost about 55lbs in 6 months following this regimine while also doing 30 minutes of cardio and 30 minutes of weight training per day. I don't expect to lose that quickly this time around since I graduated from college and no longer have to walk that 1/2 mile everyday to school for additional exercise, or walk up all those stairs, or walk around campus. But, I think I will do okay since I'm breastfeeding. I hear it can burn up to 1000 calories per day. If only I can be so lucky!!! I don't think I burn that many though so we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much has been going on around here. My dear sweet mother in law came to visit us for Christmas and I enjoyed having her around. She is a nice lady. She and Kan act a lot alike, though he doesn't see it. She's nicer than him though (this is a sarcastic comment for those who don't know me, and for Kan who acts like he doesn't understand my wit and sarcasm). She really is nicer though in her own certain way. We went shopping and she did her usual cleaning as she can never sit still and just relax. We also had some nice conversations and it was good to have some family here for the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I didn't think that Ky got much for Christmas, he was happy with his Ben 10 figurines and Transformer fighting robots/action figures. He's very easy to please. He has also curbed all the backtalk that he has been prone to using recently. When I was pregnant with El, I had a rough time with pain and nausea and I slipped on some of my rules with him. He was getting away with much more than I usually let him get away with. Now that I finally feel 100%, I told him that if he doesn't straighten up, he'll be setting himself up for a wollop. He knows I don't play and that I will wop him one, so he has started to check himself. And for those of you who don't condone spanking/wolloping, mind your business. My boy is a great kid and is usually VERY respectful and I get compliments on his behavior all the time. I hope everyone has as great a kid as he is. I could go on and on about all the wonderfulness that is my six, soon to be seven year old son, but I won't. Like all people, he does have his faults, but to me he is just pure joy and I hope that he remains the same wonderful, caring, nice person that he is when he grows up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El didn't do much but grow and look chubby and cute. She is getting HUGE. I could just sit and stare at her all day. She's also noticing a lot more since she can see better. She's always observing and staring at something. The other day she kicked the toys on her bouncer for the first time. I was so proud of her. She stayed in that bouncer, kicking and laughing for over an hour, which was CRAZY! She usually only sits in it for 15 -30 minutes maximum. I'll post the video of her kicking when I import it from my camera. It is REALLY cute. She and Ky are cute in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My own mother and brother Chris are coming to visit next week. I'm looking forward to them coming. My mom came and helped me out when I was pregnant with El. She cleaned up the house since it was a horrid mess as I was in so much pain I could not clean. They will be coming all the way from Ohio. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here are some pics of the kiddos and my dear sweet mother in law&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6sDsW1TI/AAAAAAAAABA/N89i7q7ubQ8/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287642334833857842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6sDsW1TI/AAAAAAAAABA/N89i7q7ubQ8/s320/018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6rub2EAI/AAAAAAAAAA4/CiWgCRIEetE/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287642329127456770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6rub2EAI/AAAAAAAAAA4/CiWgCRIEetE/s320/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6rX3BqHI/AAAAAAAAAAw/VEzHZV1G5BA/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287642323067447410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6rX3BqHI/AAAAAAAAAAw/VEzHZV1G5BA/s320/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6q5U8bKI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2t3FmVtKztc/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287642314871434402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6q5U8bKI/AAAAAAAAAAo/2t3FmVtKztc/s320/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8865417736132877647-821466312262119563?l=afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/feeds/821466312262119563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-in-game.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/821466312262119563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/821466312262119563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-in-game.html' title='Back in the Game'/><author><name>Lady E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08064102315794704689</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXaDHrZwz6I/AAAAAAAAACo/ZVMZeYP0OI8/S220/007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SWF6sq0imXI/AAAAAAAAABI/BdFTxmekI9A/s72-c/035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8865417736132877647.post-2905281713279308003</id><published>2008-12-14T14:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T14:51:31.129-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day One</title><content type='html'>This is the first post in what I hope will be a long lived blog.  I have always been afraid to start a blog as I felt that they were mostly written by people in the political arena and were meant to be witty, sacrastic, and informative while also sometimes showcasing the ridiculous-ness (Yes, I know that isn't a word!!) of nutcases on the web.  But, I wanted a place to post some updates and save some info on my life and the life of my family so that I won't forget all the great stuff that happens on a daily basis.  So here it goes......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I started back at work and I am TERRIFIED.  I already feel like I don't know what I'm doing half of the time on my job.  While I was out on maternity leave, our program began taking new call types and I feel like they are just another aspect of my job that I'm going to have to struggle through.  I work from home by the way, and it is great that I am able to do so, but it is difficult when you have questions and you have to wait for people in a chat room to get to you.  I do customer service and it seems like it takes forever for my coach/supervisor to answer me sometimes, which really gets on my nerves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up really late today, around noon.  Well really, I woke up at around 8am to get El so I could feed her.  She is such a lazy baby!!  As soon as she is done eating, she'll smile a lot at me, then go back to sleep.  I am lazy as well and went to sleep after she did and THEN woke up at noon.  El is so lazy and wonderful and I'm so happy she is in our lives.  I could just go on and on about her.  I love her so much and am really enjoying having a baby this time around.  Not that I didn't enjoy Ky, but I was younger and he was a surprise for me.  I was also stressed out and depressed a lot when he was a baby.  Without him though, I don't know that I would have gotten through that period, but with El, I feel very relaxed and excited about all our lives and the possibilities that accompany us all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Ky spent the day in his pajamas.  Like usual, he has created some masterpiece drawings.  He also put together a rocket made out of a cardboard paper towel roll.  I've just realized that he came in here and stole it while I went to the bathroom!!!  The little sneak!  I told him not to leave it downstairs as I'm trying to get him used to not leaving chocking hazards around the house, so I was going to keep it for a while to teach him a lesson.  I know you might think I'm mean, but now I'll have to throw it away for him disobeying me.  I feel bad about it, but I did tell him that was suppose to happen.  Hopefully, this won't ruin his day.  Other than being sneaky, he got to watch his favorite cartoon today, The Spectacular Spiderman, or something like that.  He also played on the computer and I'm sure he watched some cartoons on the PC as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear husband Kan, spent the majority of the day in the bed as well.  El gets her laziness from us.  He didn't get home until late last night.  I went to bed around 2am so he must have come home really late for me no to even hear him come in the bedroom as I'm a pretty light sleeper. I told him this morning, he's really lucky to have me for his wife as most women would curse their husbands out for staying out all night.  Even though I don't like that he does it, I know I can't force him to stay home.  I just wonder how long it will take for me to get sick of him doing it.  But a lot of the time I like that he is gone in the evening.  He is really sensitive about everything I say and I like to get a break from him, plus I don't have a feeling tha he is cheating on me or anything.  Maybe I'm just not insecure like a lot of other women, I don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8865417736132877647-2905281713279308003?l=afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/feeds/2905281713279308003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/2905281713279308003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8865417736132877647/posts/default/2905281713279308003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afrostwistsandsmiles.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-one.html' title='Day One'/><author><name>Lady E</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08064102315794704689</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i5_WyvDB2eU/SXaDHrZwz6I/AAAAAAAAACo/ZVMZeYP0OI8/S220/007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
