<?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-24859904</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:50:57.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>that's what i thought!</title><subtitle type='html'>Sharing the you the ups, downs and blunt truths about being a new mom!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>90</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-2548780520614590308</id><published>2007-05-19T07:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T07:30:01.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New site</title><content type='html'>A work in progress, but &lt;a href="http://www.babyhomepages.net/lyng/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; will replace my blog.  Most of you only visit to see pictures of Charlotte anyways!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-2548780520614590308?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/2548780520614590308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=2548780520614590308' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/2548780520614590308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/2548780520614590308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/05/new-site.html' title='New site'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-3328964690844607345</id><published>2007-04-08T18:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T17:51:36.025-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Easter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RhlwyAKKJjI/AAAAAAAAACA/KWi8cNYKwfg/s1600-h/easter+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051192461411100210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RhlwyAKKJjI/AAAAAAAAACA/KWi8cNYKwfg/s320/easter+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today was a whirlwind of a wonderful day.  The Easter Bunny brought Charlotte some stacking rings, candy (for daddy) and a piggy bank.  After a full day, the little one is tired beyond belief.  So are mommy and daddy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-3328964690844607345?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/3328964690844607345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=3328964690844607345' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/3328964690844607345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/3328964690844607345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/04/happy-easter.html' title='Happy Easter'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RhlwyAKKJjI/AAAAAAAAACA/KWi8cNYKwfg/s72-c/easter+015.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-4918733567888729384</id><published>2007-04-07T08:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T07:29:30.252-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Bunny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RheOYwKKJfI/AAAAAAAAABg/XN9WMUzidbI/s1600-h/Bunny+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050662063014815218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RheOYwKKJfI/AAAAAAAAABg/XN9WMUzidbI/s320/Bunny+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She's supposed to be my little Easter Bunny, but with the weather like it is, she's more like my little snow bunny.  We're off to an Easter Egg Hunt today....burrr!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-4918733567888729384?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/4918733567888729384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=4918733567888729384' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/4918733567888729384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/4918733567888729384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/04/little-bunny.html' title='Little Bunny'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RheOYwKKJfI/AAAAAAAAABg/XN9WMUzidbI/s72-c/Bunny+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-221624083269621235</id><published>2007-04-04T10:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T09:50:46.249-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Potato</title><content type='html'>Solid foods are a lot of fun, but they sure are messy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RhO59QKKJeI/AAAAAAAAABY/9YlXzdVy8sU/s1600-h/cal+043+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049584069173192162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RhO59QKKJeI/AAAAAAAAABY/9YlXzdVy8sU/s320/cal+043+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Today I am looking forward to having lunch with some girlfriends.  Tomorrow I get the joy of having to pay for my car to be serviced.  I am not sure what is in store for Friday, but I am amazed at how quickly this week is getting away from me.&lt;br /&gt;The passage of time really becomes apparent when you have a child.  I think it's because all of the sudden, you have this visual reference as to how much time has passed and just how quickly  it does so.  "Remember when she fit into this outfit" or "Remember when she couldn't lift her own head," things like that.  I don't know, it's just weird how time slips by so fast.  I guess it's going by at the same rate it always has, I just notice it more now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-221624083269621235?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/221624083269621235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=221624083269621235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/221624083269621235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/221624083269621235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/04/sweet-potato.html' title='Sweet Potato'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RhO59QKKJeI/AAAAAAAAABY/9YlXzdVy8sU/s72-c/cal+043+(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-8631965983462525205</id><published>2007-03-31T19:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T18:55:59.862-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Zoo</title><content type='html'>We took a trip to the zoo on Thursday. I can't even remember the last time I had been to the zoo. I was probably in elementary school. Anyhow, it was so much fun. I was totally excited about going. I guess by becoming a parent, you get to re-experience a lot of the things that you did as a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, we saw the baby panda and tons of other animals. Charlotte paid more attention to the other children that were there (busloads and busloads of children) than she did the animals. But she seemed to enjoy herself (i.e. no crying or fussing). And when Charlotte is happy, we are all happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/Rg7zc9bYpcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zrNwFLk6vsU/s1600-h/Mama+and+Baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048239911180215746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/Rg7zc9bYpcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zrNwFLk6vsU/s320/Mama+and+Baby.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She has started eating solids now. We started with rice cereal then oatmeal, both of which she likes. She tried squash and loved it. Carrots she was not so fond of, but today I discovered that she really likes sweet potatoes. It is quite a messy and time consuming task. But it is fun to see her discover new tastes and textures. She puts everything she can get her hands on into her mouth these days. She's getting really good at grabbing her toys and also her feet. Still waiting for her to roll over. &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/Rg7zLNbYpbI/AAAAAAAAABI/5GFuL9XR6K0/s1600-h/char+019+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048239606237537714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/Rg7zLNbYpbI/AAAAAAAAABI/5GFuL9XR6K0/s320/char+019+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This week is Spring Break for me, and I'm looking forward to getting together with friends, sleeping in (which now means 7:30am), getting somewhat caught up on my scrapbooking and also doing some shopping. I also have to do some less fun things, like get a tune up on my car, get my emissions test done and pay for my tag. At least I'll have the time to get it done though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Update on the weight loss...there is no update! I've hit a plateau and though I still would like to lose 10 more pounds, it just ain't happening. At least not right now. I've been told I may lose it once I stop nursing. I plan to nurse until her first tooth. Then it's over. So we'll see when that happens!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off to get the little one bathed and tucked away for the night....then I plan to veg out watching basketball.&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/24859904-8631965983462525205?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/8631965983462525205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=8631965983462525205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/8631965983462525205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/8631965983462525205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/03/zoo.html' title='Zoo'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/Rg7zc9bYpcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/zrNwFLk6vsU/s72-c/Mama+and+Baby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-6940814789666549492</id><published>2007-03-14T21:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T20:24:26.695-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I blog all the time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RfigEzeUsEI/AAAAAAAAAAs/9W8YCidevWc/s1600-h/MAT+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041955787238584386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RfigEzeUsEI/AAAAAAAAAAs/9W8YCidevWc/s320/MAT+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really do blog all the time...in my head anyways. I just can't ever seem to find the time to get it posted on the computer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Check out my &lt;a href="http://www.jamieraehats.com/photogallery2.html"&gt;budding beauty&lt;/a&gt;...she's the last one (at least for right now) on the slide show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The products are high quality, and I recommend them as a shower gift for anyone expecting a little girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is busy, but who's isn't? We went through a little phase with Charlotte of no sleep, but we've clocked at least seven straight hours the past two nights, so I think we're getting back on track. Her hair is filling in, her eyes are still blue and she smiles all the time now. She's a happy baby, very laid back and easy going. Yes, life is busy, but life is good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spring break is not far away. I hope to catch up with a lot of people that week. The first of the four college roommates turns 30 this weekend, so I'm off to party with her and others on Saturday night. Then I'm next in line for the big 3-0. My attitude? So what!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off to dreamland...I'll have to watch Lost tomorrow without the commercials. Man, I love DVR!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-6940814789666549492?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/6940814789666549492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=6940814789666549492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/6940814789666549492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/6940814789666549492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-blog-all-time.html' title='I blog all the time!'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RfigEzeUsEI/AAAAAAAAAAs/9W8YCidevWc/s72-c/MAT+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-2097338769566103002</id><published>2007-03-04T10:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T10:44:52.772-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not only the president, I'm also a client</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RerpJaLvqOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/bEFgOg0_Uhc/s1600-h/Lucy+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038095481023998178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RerpJaLvqOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/bEFgOg0_Uhc/s320/Lucy+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Charlotte was born with a head full of hair. She's still got a lot of it, but it's pretty patchy now. It's falling out and new itty-bitty baby hairs that are a bit lighter in color are slowly growing in its place. It looks kinda funky, and for now, I think I'll keep a hat on her head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am losing my hair too. The full, thick hairs of pregnancy are falling out in handfuls. Every time I wash my hair I end up with chunks and chunks of it in my hands. I have to clean my hairbrush every day now. It's disgusting and I don't know how I'm not going bald.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there's Lucy who's beginning to shed her winter coat. Ironically, the only one who's not losing any hair is Bobby!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-2097338769566103002?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/2097338769566103002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=2097338769566103002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/2097338769566103002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/2097338769566103002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/03/im-not-only-president-im-also-client.html' title='I&apos;m not only the president, I&apos;m also a client'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RerpJaLvqOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/bEFgOg0_Uhc/s72-c/Lucy+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-8874120048113872528</id><published>2007-03-03T18:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T18:42:13.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Addict</title><content type='html'>I've always loved the smell of coffee.  But I've never been a coffee drinker.  Everyone told me that once I went to college I'd learn to drink it.  When I still didn't take to the taste, I was told that when I began teaching I'd learn to love it.  And yet, as hard as I tried, I still ordered the hot chocolate when the girls all met at Starbucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I caught a cold...no surprise.  I'm around germy kids all day.  Tuesday morning, after about 6 hours of sleep, I woke up with a headache and stuffy nose, and I felt like crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to drive thru Starbucks and pick up a mocha.  I knew I didn't like coffee, but I like chocolate, and I was determined to drink it for the pick-me-up factor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up doing the same thing the next morning, and the again the next, and by Friday I was feeling better and I wasn't even tired, but I craved the taste so much, I stopped again anyways.  I even dusted off the old coffee pot here at the house, picked up some coffee and cream at the store and made myself a cup this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took having a child to turn me, but I'm officially a coffee drinker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-8874120048113872528?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/8874120048113872528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=8874120048113872528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/8874120048113872528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/8874120048113872528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/03/addict.html' title='Addict'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-7076232491055683922</id><published>2007-02-22T19:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T19:27:00.464-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to School</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/Rd4zXcAmYLI/AAAAAAAAAAY/pK0vGuFMyAY/s1600-h/cal+3+028+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034517911195508914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/Rd4zXcAmYLI/AAAAAAAAAAY/pK0vGuFMyAY/s320/cal+3+028+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Returning to work has not been bad at all.  In fact, it's been pretty great.  I don't worry about Charlotte, because I know she's in good hands.  I'm home by 3:30 so we have lots of time together in the afternoons.  Now, it's only been two days, so my opinion may change, but I think I'm finding a good balance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little kids are so funny.  They ask me tons of questions.  Mostly, they want to know where she is.  I tell them she is at home with her Grandma.  Some of them tell me that I "look different."  Well, I sure hope so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-7076232491055683922?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/7076232491055683922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=7076232491055683922' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/7076232491055683922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/7076232491055683922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/02/back-to-school.html' title='Back to School'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/Rd4zXcAmYLI/AAAAAAAAAAY/pK0vGuFMyAY/s72-c/cal+3+028+(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-6366385103413971056</id><published>2007-02-19T22:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T22:20:02.978-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A long weekend...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RdpnucAmYKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VHJAYsFjQU0/s1600-h/Daisy+10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033449581030301858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RdpnucAmYKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VHJAYsFjQU0/s320/Daisy+10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday night was spent unable to sleep. Which is stupid, because I was tired beyond belief. Bobby had a lacrosse game, so I was on my own. I got Charlotte tucked away, so I decided to draw a hot bath, light a candle and enjoy a glass a wine. Just kidding! You know me better than that...I had a Miller Lite. So anyways, I settled into bed to watch &lt;a href="http://tlc.discovery.com/fansites/whatnottowear/whatnottowear.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, thinking surely I'd fall asleep in 10 seconds, but no such luck. I think I finally nodded off around 2am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day my brother in law and his wife came into town. We went &lt;a href="http://www.chateauelanatlanta.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and took the tour, though I didn't taste a single wine I enjoyed. Charlotte spent most of the time in &lt;a href="http://www.target.com/gp/detail.html/ref=br_1_16/602-5417504-4300607?ie=UTF8&amp;frombrowse=1&amp;amp;asin=B000BU8YM0"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, thus giving me a bit of a backache. But it was worth it to get out and do something fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday we just lounged around the house. The guys went and got everyone steaks and we had a big dinner. So much for my diet. But surprisingly I didn't gain any weight when I had my weigh in today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I head back to work on Wednesday. I am ready. I know it will be hard, but I love my job, and I know Charlotte is in good hands with her Grandma, so that makes it much easier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-6366385103413971056?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/6366385103413971056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=6366385103413971056' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/6366385103413971056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/6366385103413971056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/02/long-weekend.html' title='A long weekend...'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZiTNy1or-8I/RdpnucAmYKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VHJAYsFjQU0/s72-c/Daisy+10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-7862392465870433325</id><published>2007-02-11T13:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T13:06:21.644-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This much I know</title><content type='html'>A very small sample of things I know now that I didn't three months ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is no longer a day off, a morning to sleep in, or a dash out the door.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is built within us a strong, instictive desire to calm our baby's cries.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dogs like spit-up.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pronouns like "I" and "me" quickly become replaced by the word "Mommy." For example, "Mommy is going to feed you now." or "Do you want to sit with Mommy?"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nothing can melt your heart like the sight of your baby's smile.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You can &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; the laundry, but the laundry will never be &lt;em&gt;done&lt;/em&gt;. Same goes for housework.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Though Johnson &amp;amp; Johnson tells us that having a baby changes everything, it doesn't. But it does change your perspective on a lot of things.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Laughter truly is the best medicine. Laugh often with others and at yourself. When all else fails, just laugh.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-7862392465870433325?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/7862392465870433325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=7862392465870433325' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/7862392465870433325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/7862392465870433325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/02/this-much-i-know.html' title='This much I know'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-117071079935036901</id><published>2007-02-05T16:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T16:26:39.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tum-Tum</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/1600/663939/CAL%20012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/320/984625/CAL%20012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here, Charlotte is looking down at her cute little tummy.  I, however, looked down at my tummy in great frustration this morning because after weighing myself I found that I had GAINED two pounds last week.  Not really a surprise, I ate like crap this weekend.  Oh well, I'll start anew today and work towards next Monday's weigh in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We enjoyed the company of some good friends last night watching the first half of the Super Bowl.  We had to leave at halftime to get Charlotte home and in bed, and I wasn't even able to stay awake to finish watching the game.  That beer and a half really must have done me in (pathetic, I know!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-117071079935036901?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/117071079935036901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=117071079935036901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/117071079935036901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/117071079935036901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/02/tum-tum.html' title='Tum-Tum'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-117040467984823833</id><published>2007-02-01T23:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T03:24:39.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Toy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/1600/693685/playing4%20(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/320/900855/playing4%20%282%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Is it just me, or are those some piano playing fingers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize now, just how big Charlotte has gotten over the past 12 weeks.  Crystal just had her baby, and as I held him in my arms, he felt so incredibly small.  At just over 8 pounds, he's half of what Charlotte weighs now.  He seemed so feeble and fragile, he had that newborn "skinny" to him and his cry was soft and quiet.  Holding him flooded my memory back three months to when Charlotte was so small and tiny.  There's a new kind of happiness that I feel now for friends who have children, now that I've experienced it myself.  Congrats to Crystal and her husband on their healthy baby boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I head back to work in three short weeks.  It's weird because while I don't know how Charlotte got so big so fast, and I can't figure out where the past three months have gone, at that same time I feel like I haven't been to work in ages.  I guess I've never taken so much time off.  Even summer break is only half the number of weeks that I'll have taken off by the time I go back.  It's going to be so hard, and though I try not to think about it, reality is really starting to slap me in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit that I do need something though.  I have been restless for the past two weeks.  Daily trips to the mall and Target are great for cabin fever, but no so great on the bank account.  Charlotte can't possibly wear all the cute clothes I've bought -- although I think she needs some new shoes.  Just wait until she grows some more hair.  Then I can add hairbows to my shopping sprees!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-117040467984823833?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/117040467984823833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=117040467984823833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/117040467984823833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/117040467984823833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/02/new-toy.html' title='A New Toy'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-117017616211035824</id><published>2007-01-30T11:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T11:56:02.120-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weigh In</title><content type='html'>After 4 weeks on Weight Watchers&lt;br /&gt;Pounds lost:  11&lt;br /&gt;Pounds to go to reach pre-pregnancy weight:  3&lt;br /&gt;Pounds to go to reach goal weight:  8&lt;br /&gt;Finally being able to fit into my old jeans:  priceless&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-117017616211035824?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/117017616211035824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=117017616211035824' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/117017616211035824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/117017616211035824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/01/weigh-in.html' title='Weigh In'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116872585071673842</id><published>2007-01-13T17:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T17:04:10.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My New 'Do</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/1600/455839/me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/320/712815/me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got 5 inches cut off.  Maybe it will make a difference when I have to weigh myself on Monday for WW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116872585071673842?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116872585071673842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116872585071673842' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116872585071673842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116872585071673842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-new-do.html' title='My New &apos;Do'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116852524089015153</id><published>2007-01-11T09:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T09:20:40.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair today, Gone tomorrow</title><content type='html'>I swore I wouldn't do it.  But I am, tomorrow at 3:30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting a mommy cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't freak out, I'm not going to get it cut ridiculously short or anything, but halfway down the back as it is now just isn't working for me anymore.  It takes way to long to blow dry (some of you know of my great hatred for blow drying my hair) and it looks like a tangled mess when I let it dry naturally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had my hair cut short before, in college, and at least I thought it looked okay back then.  Even still, I'm not going to go that short...I'm not giving in just yet!  Maybe just a few inches to where it'll still reach my shoulders and I can still pull it back in a ponytail.  Bobby loves my hair long, and we have an agreement that as long as I keep mine long, he'll keep his cut short.  And since he's been looking a bit scraggly these days, I'll just take it as an unspoken sign that I can get my locks chopped.  Not that he really has a say anyways!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116852524089015153?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116852524089015153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116852524089015153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116852524089015153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116852524089015153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/01/hair-today-gone-tomorrow.html' title='Hair today, Gone tomorrow'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116845046555592734</id><published>2007-01-10T12:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T12:34:25.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Picky, Picky</title><content type='html'>Any of you moms - or anyone else for that matter -out there who read, I need some advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlotte will not drink from a bottle.  I've tried three different types of bottles and nipples, I've tried slow, medium and fast.  And it's not that she won't take them from me, she won't take a bottle from anyone.  What do I do?  Call or email me if you have suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not a big deal right now, but when I return to work, I don't want to think about her being hungry all day.  I guess she'll get hungry enough that she'll take it, but I'm thinking there's got to be a better way.  Plus, it would be nice to get out for more than 3 hours at a time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116845046555592734?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116845046555592734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116845046555592734' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116845046555592734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116845046555592734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/01/picky-picky.html' title='Picky, Picky'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116835408042822097</id><published>2007-01-09T09:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T09:48:00.443-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What will we watch now?</title><content type='html'>Although I hate rooting for Florida, I will say that I am glad they won last night and represented the SEC well.  I always wonder at the end of college football season what it is I do on the weekends.  I'm not a big pro football fan, so those games don't interest me much.  I guess I actually get stuff done, instead of starting every Saturday with College GameDay followed by hours of football games. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After two pretty rough nights in a row, Charlotte slept great last night.  Thank goodness for my mother-in-law who comes over so I can nap on days that I am exhausted.  I still don't know how I'll do it when I return to work.  I think part of me is in denial that I even have to go back to work.  I'm certainly not ready now, and I doubt I will be in 6 weeks, but so it goes being married to a grad student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been on Weight Watchers for a week now and it seems to be working for me.  Since I'm nursing, I can't lose too much too fast, but I am losing and I actually now fit into some pre-pregnancy pants (one of the larger pairs in my closet).  I'm down almost 40 pounds since having Charlotte, with 10 more to go to reach my pre-pregnancy weight.  Then if I can lose another 5 or 10 on top of that, I'd really be in good shape.  I have a goal of getting there by July, when we head to Mexico for a wedding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh....I wish I were in Mexico right now.  Margarita....sun....beach....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116835408042822097?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116835408042822097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116835408042822097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116835408042822097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116835408042822097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-will-we-watch-now.html' title='What will we watch now?'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116812140676344048</id><published>2007-01-06T17:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T17:12:02.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Flirt</title><content type='html'>So the doc is doing a physical exam on Charlotte, and just as I finish asking him about how much she should be socializing at her age, she starts flirting with him. She starts grinning and batting her long eyelashes and the doc speaks for her, "What are you talkin' about, Mom? I socialize just fine!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Here's Charlotte, sporting her favorite pair of jeans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/1600/220947/Charlotte%20015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/320/756869/Charlotte%20015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And exactly what does she need these back pockets for?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/1600/304996/Charlotte%20016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/320/607910/Charlotte%20016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/1600/867554/Charlotte%20015.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&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/24859904-116812140676344048?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116812140676344048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116812140676344048' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116812140676344048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116812140676344048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/01/little-flirt.html' title='Little Flirt'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116800585609819657</id><published>2007-01-05T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T09:04:16.110-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Milestones</title><content type='html'>We head to the pediatrician today for our two month check-up.  Two issues here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  The always nagging question in the back of my mind:  Is my baby's development on track?  I probably think about it more than I should.  I know she's strong, and she has long periods of being alert.  She sleeps really well and is only a moderately fussy baby.  But then why doesn't she smile more?  And why won't she hold my gaze? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Vaccines.  I know they are necessary, but I really don't want to watch my baby get poked and prodded.  Bobby can't go with me today, so I'm taking my mother-in-law.  Mostly so she can hold my hand while I cry watching Charlotte cry.  I am dreading it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116800585609819657?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116800585609819657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116800585609819657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116800585609819657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116800585609819657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/01/milestones.html' title='Milestones'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116774815489221166</id><published>2007-01-02T09:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T09:29:14.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/1600/421278/Playtime%203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/320/473222/Playtime%203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New years are always full of resolutions. I have two: the first is to get on some sort of a schedule. I go back to work in about 8 weeks, so I'd like to settle into a routine for the next 6 weeks, then I'll have to start a different one once I go back to work. Bobby finally goes back to work today, so that should help significantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a creature of habit, and I certainly function more efficiently when on some sort of a schedule. I like flexibility in my day, but I definitely need a schedule to at least work around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and my second resolution is to lose 20 pounds in the next 6 months. Any bets on which will be easier?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116774815489221166?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116774815489221166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116774815489221166' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116774815489221166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116774815489221166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-year.html' title='A New Year'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116759713234954370</id><published>2006-12-31T15:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T15:32:12.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Coincidence?</title><content type='html'>Since Charlotte's birth the Dawgs have won every ballgame they've played.  Or, some would say, since I've been able to drink beer again on gameday (though in much smaller quantities) the Dawgs have won every game they've played.  Either way, last night was a great way to end a not-so-great season.  Go Dawgs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116759713234954370?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116759713234954370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116759713234954370' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116759713234954370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116759713234954370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/12/coincidence.html' title='Coincidence?'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116688156335468288</id><published>2006-12-23T08:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-23T08:46:03.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep in Heavenly Peace...for 7 Hours</title><content type='html'>So after a couple nights of interrupted sleep, Charlotte gave us a good seven hours last night -- swaddle free!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116688156335468288?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116688156335468288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116688156335468288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116688156335468288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116688156335468288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/12/sleep-in-heavenly-peacefor-7-hours.html' title='Sleep in Heavenly Peace...for 7 Hours'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116672097563071828</id><published>2006-12-21T11:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T12:09:35.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Houdini</title><content type='html'>So after raving about the Miracle Blanket, I wake to find Charlotte this morning at 3am with her left leg hanging out.  Then at 6am with both arms and one leg out.  She was fussing both times, probably from being cold, and I got a crappy night of sleep.  Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she was first born, we tried wrapping her in the &lt;a href="http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=2267390&amp;cp=&amp;amp;fbn=Brand+Name+Secondary%7CCarter%27s&amp;f=Taxonomy%2FTRUS%2F2255957&amp;amp;f=PAD%2FBrand+Name+Secondary%2FCarter%27s&amp;fbc=1&amp;amp;kw=receiving+blankets&amp;parentPage=search"&gt;receiving blankets&lt;/a&gt;.  What a waste.  They are just too small.  Now we use them as burp cloths, but they don't absorb very well, so they just generally kind of suck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found that the cloths that came from the hospital worked best, and we even had a nurse friend send over a few more.  Those worked great - for about two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started making her way out of those, so we switched to a &lt;a href="http://www.momsoncall.com/"&gt;bigger cloth &lt;/a&gt;that some friends had given us.  It worked so well we ordered two more.  Those worked great - for about two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tried &lt;a href="http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=2265540&amp;cp=&amp;amp;f=Taxonomy%2FTRUS%2F2255957&amp;origkw=receiving+blankets&amp;amp;kw=receiving+blankets&amp;parentPage=search"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; and it absolutely sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then we got the &lt;a href="http://www.miracleblanket.com/instructions.htm"&gt;Miracle Blanket&lt;/a&gt;, though I only ordered one.  It worked great - for about two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now at six weeks, I think we're done swaddling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116672097563071828?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116672097563071828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116672097563071828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116672097563071828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116672097563071828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/12/little-houdini.html' title='Little Houdini'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116656315214976660</id><published>2006-12-19T16:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T16:19:12.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/1600/667432/Photo%20Shoot%20016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/320/757957/Photo%20Shoot%20016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blog all the time...in my head, usually while feeding Charlotte. It just never seems to make it here to post. But I'll try harder from now on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the picture from our announcement/Christmas card.  Charlotte is growing like a weed. She's got to be at least 10 pounds by now, and is chubby as ever. We went about two weeks ago for a routine doctor's visit. She was in the 75th percentile for weight, and the 25th for height. So the pediatrician called her "little buddha." No wonder she started crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone always asks how she sleeps. She sleeps great. She usually feeds around 9pm or 10pm and doesn't wake up again until about 5:00am. &lt;a href="http://www.miracleblanket.com/instructions.htm"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; is the best thing ever, and I swear it's why she sleeps so well. I would recommend it to anyone. No other swaddle works. She always got out of them...she's a strong little girl! She falls asleep on her own now, we no longer have to rock her to sleep. She fusses some nights, but never more than a few minutes...unless she has gas, then we just have to wait for her to get it out. I swear, I have never been around anyone or anything that burps and farts so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's more to tell, but I'll have to catch up later...it's feeding time (again!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116656315214976660?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116656315214976660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116656315214976660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116656315214976660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116656315214976660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/12/hi-again.html' title='Hi again!'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116527065304215475</id><published>2006-12-04T17:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T17:21:30.236-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmastime</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/1600/847591/Hanging%20Out%20002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/320/337283/Hanging%20Out%20002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so great having a newborn at Christmastime. I was thinking just today about my past three Christmases and how much things have changed. In 2004, Bobby and I were engaged at Christmas. Then the next Christmas was our first Christmas as a married couple. And now, here we are this Christmas with a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlotte and I sit and rock in the rocking chair for hours on end as I sing her Christmas carols. I know I have a few weeks to wait, but I'm still searching for that first real smile. Maybe by Christmas Day...wouldn't that be just the perfect present!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116527065304215475?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116527065304215475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116527065304215475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116527065304215475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116527065304215475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/12/christmastime.html' title='Christmastime'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116515353790842204</id><published>2006-12-03T08:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T08:45:37.920-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Fat</title><content type='html'>I understand now why so many women permanently keep 10 or so pregnancy pounds after giving birth.  It's because your idea of what looks good becomes so distorted by your pregnant body.  Since giving birth almost a month ago, I've lost 30 pounds.  I was looking in the mirror just this morning and thinking, "Eh, this isn't so bad.  Let's pull out the pre-pregger jeans --you know, just to see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I easily have another 15-20 pounds to lose (yes, you do the math, I gained A LOT of weight during my pregnancy).  But I know there's hope, because I have many friends who look great today, with a baby on the hip.  So wish me luck, because I know this isn't going to be easy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116515353790842204?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116515353790842204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116515353790842204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116515353790842204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116515353790842204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/12/baby-fat.html' title='Baby Fat'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116424309287819653</id><published>2006-11-22T19:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T19:52:19.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/1600/445338/Photo%20Shoot%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7966/1184/320/924972/Photo%20Shoot%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How unfortunate for me that I'm going to be trying to lose baby weight during the holiday season! I am really going to have to practice some self control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to spending the next several days with friends and family celebrating Thanksgiving. You can probably guess what I am most thankful for! I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving and that you have plenty to thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Typing with one hand while holding Charlotte in the other is not that easy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116424309287819653?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116424309287819653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116424309287819653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116424309287819653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116424309287819653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116405797241867719</id><published>2006-11-20T16:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T16:26:12.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pink, Pink, Pink</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Pretty%20in%20Pink%209.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/320/Pretty%20in%20Pink%209.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're starting to get a LOT of pink stuff now that Charlotte is here. Pink clothes, blankets, bears...you name it. I love it all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, she seems to be growing into her own person more and more. When she was first born, I thought she looked just like me. Now I am really starting to see her individual traits, both physically and otherwise. It's been two weeks, and already I amazed at how the time flies by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116405797241867719?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116405797241867719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116405797241867719' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116405797241867719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116405797241867719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/11/pink-pink-pink.html' title='Pink, Pink, Pink'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116370090960841965</id><published>2006-11-16T13:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T13:16:17.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Big%20Eyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/320/Big%20Eyes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every woman who has been through labor has a story. Some are very textbook, others involve nearly delivering on GA400. And for some reason, we all feel the need to share our labor story. I never understood this until I had my own story to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like crap Sunday, the day before Charlotte was born. I was so tired of being pregnant, and I was beginning to buy into the old wives tales about how to speed the onset of labor along. We order Papa John's pizza that night, and I jokingly ate the jalapeno pepper, even stating that by eating the spicy treat I could bring labor on. Then we went for a long walk around the neighborhood with the dog, again in hopes of getting labor going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't fall asleep that night, mainly because of the indigestion the pizza and pepper had given me. I awoke one minute before my alarm clock the next morning and headed into work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about 15 minutes into my first class. I was teaching 5th graders and we were working on playing the recorder. All of the sudden I felt my water break. It wasn't a gush, like in the movies, but it definitely broke. I froze for a moment, regained my composure and asked my students to sit quietly (yeah right) as I had to go down the hall. I asked them not to play the instruments, and told them I'd be right back. I rush down the hall, grab the first free teacher I see and asked her to watch my class -- I think my water broke! She shrilled and headed to my classroom and I waddled to the nearest restroom. Sure enough, it was time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the story is pretty routine. We headed to the hospital, I took drugs and got an epidural, and a few hours later baby Charlotte was born. I am fully convinced that I would do labor twice if I could shorten pregnancy by a couple of months. Labor was nothing compared to the last few weeks of pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now it's been 10 days and I've been in absolute bliss. I am so in love with this little girl, and seeing Bobby with her has made me fall even deeper in love with him. No, we are not sleeping like before, but she lets us get just enough. She has her fussy moments, but nothing unbearable. She doesn't feed as well as I'd like her too, but she's thriving. Life isn't perfect, but at the same time I'm perfectly happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116370090960841965?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116370090960841965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116370090960841965' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116370090960841965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116370090960841965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-story.html' title='My Story'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116307857628587417</id><published>2006-11-09T08:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T08:22:56.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Little Sweet Pea</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Charlotte%20Anne%204.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/400/Charlotte%20Anne%204.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/24859904-116307857628587417?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116307857628587417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116307857628587417' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116307857628587417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116307857628587417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/11/our-little-sweet-pea.html' title='Our Little Sweet Pea'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116302561613589207</id><published>2006-11-08T17:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T17:40:16.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Girl!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Charlotte Anne Lyng&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November 6, 2006&lt;br /&gt;4:57pm&lt;br /&gt;7 pounds 4 ounces&lt;br /&gt;20 inches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will post pictures soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116302561613589207?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116302561613589207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116302561613589207' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116302561613589207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116302561613589207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/11/its-girl.html' title='It&apos;s a Girl!'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116259288637250504</id><published>2006-11-03T17:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T17:28:06.383-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on the "not-so-little" one</title><content type='html'>Six pounds, fifteen ounces.  Full head of hair, chubby cheeks.  And according to my doctor, the baby seems perfectly happy in the womb and has no plans to make an appearance any time soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I'm so impatient.  My due date isn't until the 20th.  I've heard of women -- especially with first pregnancies -- going days, even weeks beyond their due dates.  Let me just warn you that if that happens...well, I can't even think about that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116259288637250504?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116259288637250504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116259288637250504' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116259288637250504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116259288637250504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/11/update-on-not-so-little-one.html' title='Update on the &quot;not-so-little&quot; one'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116250350784450808</id><published>2006-11-02T16:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T16:38:28.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks</title><content type='html'>I'm down to my last two weeks here, and I felt it necessary to give out a few words of thanks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost, thank you to my husband who has amazingly survived my pregnancy.  He has cooked dinner almost every night, cleaned every week, walked the dog every day, and done the grocery shopping on the weekends these last couple of months.  He has given me a backrub at least every other night from the very beginning.  He has catered to my every need, and I honestly don't think I could have done this without him.  All this on top of working more than full time so that he can be home with me for several weeks after the baby is born.  And if you know him, all this probably wouldn't surprise you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have experienced love in a whole new way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, thanks to all my friends, family members and coworkers.  To all the moms out there, thanks for the advice, most of which has been more helpful than any book I've tried to read.  To all the non-moms out there, thanks for sharing in my excitement and being understanding of the changes I have gone through.  And to everyone who has showered with me with presents and presence, I am forever grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I thank God above for this miracle of pregnancy.  I am not one of those women who would ever say that I felt my best when I was pregnant or that I enjoyed every moment.  I don't care who you are or what you say, these women are liars - do not believe a word of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have certainly not enjoying the swelling feet, the heartburn, and the sleepless nights.  I have not enjoying watching my face puff up, my skin break out like a teenager and my butt come to resemble a golf ball with a crack in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did enjoy the moment I saw two lines on the pregnancy test.  I enjoyed telling everyone and seeing or hearing their reactions.  I enjoyed seeing the heartbeat of this little life for the first time, and the start of my dreams for my child.  I enjoyed trying to hear the heartbeat for the first time, and finally coming to recognize the sound.  I enjoyed feeling those first few flutters and wondering, "Is that the baby?"  I enjoyed seeing the first ultrasound and giggling with such delight I could barely contain myself.  I've enjoyed every kick and hiccup because it reminds me of how lucky I am to have had this experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, I experienced love in a whole new way. &lt;br /&gt;And I just wanted to say, "Thanks."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116250350784450808?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116250350784450808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116250350784450808' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116250350784450808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116250350784450808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/11/thanks.html' title='Thanks'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116199832496127335</id><published>2006-10-27T20:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T20:18:44.973-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lookin' good</title><content type='html'>I went to the doctor again today and everything is looking good so far.  I go Wednesday for another ultrasound, and to see just how big this baby has gotten.  It feels like it's 10 pounds already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working half days will continue, as it has done wonders for my swelling.  Everything is in order at work incase I do leave early, but right now it looks like I'm right on schedule.  My due date is November 20th, so about 3 more weeks to go.  Although I'm anxious to meet the baby and to not be pregnant anymore, I also need those 3 weeks get my mother-in-law down here and moved into her apartment, and to get a few more things done before the big arrival.  I know I'll never be fully prepared, but it's just my nature to try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be watching the Georgia game tomorrow, hoping for a miracle!   Stranger things have happened, so we'll see, but I'm certainly not holding my breath.  Oh, and I'll also enjoy the extra hour of sleep this weekend...don't forget to fall back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116199832496127335?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116199832496127335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116199832496127335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116199832496127335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116199832496127335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/10/lookin-good.html' title='Lookin&apos; good'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116138458700268785</id><published>2006-10-20T17:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T17:49:47.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One month to go...</title><content type='html'>But hey, who's counting?  ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to the doctor today.  The doc nearly fell off the stool after looking at my ankles.  Too much swelling.  Add that to the numbness in my fingertips and the general all-over puffiness and I all of the sudden had a receipe for "modified bedrest."  So starting next week I'll be working half days, 7-11am.  Then it's home to bed with the feet propped up for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The result is more work this weekend on sub-plans for these afternoon classes I'll be missing.  But don't worry, there will be plenty of football watching too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116138458700268785?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116138458700268785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116138458700268785' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116138458700268785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116138458700268785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/10/one-month-to-go.html' title='One month to go...'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116120163772574179</id><published>2006-10-18T14:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-18T15:06:32.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting there...</title><content type='html'>Today: finished up lesson plans for maternity leave at work; got &lt;a href="http://www.redenvelope.com/re/gifts/product_display/product_information.jsp?nc=71514&amp;refPg=endeca_srch&amp;amp;N=0&amp;Nr=searchable%3A0&amp;amp;Ntk=search&amp;Ntt=diaper+bag&amp;amp;Ntx=mode%2Bmatchallpartial&amp;initSrch=search&amp;amp;oid=14039327&amp;nc2=1&amp;amp;sidTime=1161201369&amp;BV_SessionID=@@@@0803053318.1161200085@@@@&amp;amp;BV_EngineID=ccdiaddjdjgmjeecefecefedfgfdfmg.0"&gt;diaper bag &lt;/a&gt;and bumper in the mail&lt;br /&gt;Tonight: have dinner with friend; watch Lost&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow: meet with pediatrician&lt;br /&gt;Friday: go to doctor for checkup and to go over labor and delivery; go to high school football game - maybe&lt;br /&gt;Weekend: mark some more things off my to-do list; watch the Dawgs and pray they win&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediate future: prop fat, swollen feet and ankles up and take a nap&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116120163772574179?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116120163772574179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116120163772574179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116120163772574179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116120163772574179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/10/getting-there.html' title='Getting there...'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116094979274904426</id><published>2006-10-15T16:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-15T17:03:12.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'>5 pounds 10 ounces</title><content type='html'>That's the latest weigh in on the little one.  We went last Wednesday for an ultrasound and got to see some amazing images of our baby.  I think two of those five pounds are going to be in cheeks alone.  Maybe it will have a dimple in one like me.  We were also told the baby has a full head of hair!  But nothing points me in the direction that this baby is going to come early, so it's five more weeks of waiting as of right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked this weekend -- and plan to continue this week -- on getting stuff at work in order.  I have a substitute scheduled, so now I've just got to leave the lessons and vital information to keep my classes going the weeks that I'll be out.  It's a lot of work now, but it will be worth it not to have to worry about it while I'm learning to be a mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent some time Saturday shopping for more baby stuff.  It's unbelievable, but I still have a list of items left.  I did find a full size diaper bag that I've ordered and a bumper too.  It's taking time, but I'm getting there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116094979274904426?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116094979274904426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116094979274904426' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116094979274904426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116094979274904426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/10/5-pounds-10-ounces.html' title='5 pounds 10 ounces'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116031326624659652</id><published>2006-10-08T08:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-08T09:00:31.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In other news...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Yes, this is my second post in one morning. But I wanted to touch on some non-pregnancy related topics:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, congrats to my best friend on her one year wedding anniversary. She spent yesterday exposing her husband for the first time to the wonder, magic and awe of Gameday in Athens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of, I really missed being in Athens yesterday. I thought about it many times throughout the day. My plan was to go tailgate, but I knew my body just wouldn't hold up. &lt;/p&gt;I yearned to smell the crisp morning air and leave my footprints in the dew still sprinkled on the grass. I wanted to unfold my chair and wait for the sun to warm me enough to take off my sweater. I longed to feel the condensation of my first beer drip over my hand and taste the goodness on my lips. I wanted to hear the marching band warming up and watch their rehearsal from the hill. I wanted to make it through the afternoon, talking and drinking, seeing familiar faces, catching up with friends and enjoying the atmosphere. I wanted to take my late afternoon nap then pep back up again in time to head to the Tate Center. I wanted to send Keith for my sweater then bundle up, settle in, and cheer on the Dawgs.  Most of all, I just wanted to feel the excitement in the air of the biggest game of the season thus far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I watched the game in the comfort of my own home on the couch and in my pajamas.  I was proud of Joe T and the whole team.  Then came the second half.  It was just plain hard to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my friends.  Forgive me for not calling as often or getting together as much.  I am not at all myself these days, and while I may never be the same again, I will be a much closer resemblence of the old me (both physically and mentally) in a few months - hopefully.  Bear with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, best of luck to &lt;a href="http://readdave.blogspot.com/"&gt;Dave&lt;/a&gt;.  I can't wait to hear tales from your journey and your experiences in Boston.  Please keep us updated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116031326624659652?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116031326624659652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116031326624659652' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116031326624659652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116031326624659652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/10/in-other-news.html' title='In other news...'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-116031236323408970</id><published>2006-10-08T07:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-08T07:59:23.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm ready...no I'm not...yes I am....no I'm not....</title><content type='html'>Physically I am ready for the big day.  I'm big as a whale, uncomfortable and just plain worn out.  Otherwise, I'm no where near ready.  There's still a million things left on my list of things to do - meet with the pediatrician, get my maternity leave issues settled, pack my bags for the hospital - you get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the doctor yesterday for a routine checkup.  A very small part of me was hoping for some bedrest.  "Yes, doctor, my feet and ankles are swollen and I am soooooooooooooo tired."  Turns out my blood pressure is near perfect, my blood sugar levels checked out fine and I am in great shape for my stage of pregnancy.  So no bedrest for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can really feel little legs and feet and maybe hands moving around inside me.  I get tickled in the ribs and my bladder feels like it's getting stepped on at times.  I spend a few evenings each week in the nursery rocking and reading books to this precious being.  While part of me hates the discomfort of these last few weeks, another part of me is trying to embrace it and enjoy it as much as I can, because it will all be over soon, and never again will I have this exact experience with this child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to meet with family this afternoon for a baby shower.  It will be good to see many faces I don't get to see enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-116031236323408970?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/116031236323408970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=116031236323408970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116031236323408970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/116031236323408970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-readyno-im-notyes-i-amno-im-not.html' title='I&apos;m ready...no I&apos;m not...yes I am....no I&apos;m not....'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115961068503270009</id><published>2006-09-30T04:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T05:04:45.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay Puff</title><content type='html'>Yes, it's 6am right now and I'm wide awake.  Ironic, since all I've wanted to do all week long is sleep.  Maybe it's easier to be awake right now since today I know I can turn around and go back to bed when I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In elementary school you get your picture taken for the yearbook each year - I'm sure you all remember.  There was always some cloud or tree (or in the 80s it was a lazer) background.  Well, they take teacher pictures too and for some reason they always give us a complimentary sheet of pictures of ourselves, as if we might forget what we look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled mine out of my mailbox at work and was mortified.  I look like a marshmallow.  I am about as white as one, and it looks like I stuffed my mouth with about ten of the jumbo sized ones and smiled.  They should put "was pregnant at the time this picture was taken" under the photo somewhere.  That is just not fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not too much on the agenda for this weekend.  Still preparing for baby.  Also going to volunteer at the festival my school is hosting today.  Fit in a few football games and a nap or two and I'll be doing well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115961068503270009?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115961068503270009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115961068503270009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115961068503270009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115961068503270009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/09/stay-puff.html' title='Stay Puff'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115922132898589347</id><published>2006-09-25T16:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T16:55:29.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Energy...and lack thereof</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I last posted.  How I am doing?  Well, to say that I've been busy is an understatement.  And it won't let up for another couple of weeks.  Mostly work related.  I have two big shows coming up in October, and those things always stress me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip to New York was great.  The wedding was fun, the bride was beautiful and the company was fantastic.  The drive sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent last week and this weekend trying to get caught up after being out of town.  No such luck.  My to-do list (not to be confused with the all new Sonny-do list) keeps getting bigger and my energy level keeps getting smaller.  I guess I knew I'd be tired, but I had no idea just how tired the slightest little thing can make me.  I went to the grocery store on Sunday and I was spent.  Absolutely spent.  I took a nap afterward so I could run more errands later in the afternoon.  Yeah, those errands never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to work today and had an awful day.  Every part of my body aches.  Parts I never even knew could ache are aching.  So I called up Spa Sydell and I'm going to blow some major bucks on a massage that I need so bad I think I'd give my entire 401k for it right now if that's what it cost.  In one hour I'll be on my way to feeling much better.  Then maybe my next post will be less bitchy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115922132898589347?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115922132898589347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115922132898589347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115922132898589347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115922132898589347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/09/energyand-lack-thereof.html' title='Energy...and lack thereof'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115817877693422137</id><published>2006-09-13T15:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T15:19:37.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing</title><content type='html'>My girlfriends threw me the most amazing baby shower on Saturday.  They will never know how grateful I am.  It never ceases to amaze me the level of friendship and loyalty I have from such wonderful people in my life.  I feel lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great time and it was nice to see people I love all together in one place.  Everyone was so generous with the gifts and our home is really starting to feel ready for the baby's arrival.  I still have a list a mile long of things to do and get, but I'm sure that never ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The diet is going well and I've actually lost a pound since starting.  My test results vary from day to day, but overall I am keeping within the range I am supposed to be in.  I went yesterday for another ultrasound and they said that the baby looks just fine.  It was so cool to see it again.  It's gotten so much bigger.  There's already hair on its head and it's up to 3 pounds 9 ounces!  We got some pictures of the face, but probably only we can make them out so I won't post them.  It looks like Baby Lyng has some chubby cheeks though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also had our second (of four) childbirthing class last night.  Oh Lord...that's all I'm going to say about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going to enjoy a friend's wedding this weekend and hopefully recall some of the magic that comes with that special time.  I think weddings are fun in general, but this one is sure to be a blast -- and I'm even saying that with the knowledge that I'm not going to get hammered!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115817877693422137?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115817877693422137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115817877693422137' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115817877693422137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115817877693422137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/09/amazing.html' title='Amazing'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115757668371461596</id><published>2006-09-06T15:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T16:04:43.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bobby's next project</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Swing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/320/Swing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Just when he thought he was finished around the house, now we're starting to get stuff to put together for baby!  My lunch buddies at work threw me a little surprise shower today and gave me a basket full of toys, books and other goodies.  They also got us the Fisher Price Nature's Touch Swing.  This swing has come highly recommended from some good friends of ours, and will hopefully keep baby calm and happy in times of need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I went to the specialist about the gestational diabetes.  It's not so bad, and I'm trying to keep a positive attitude about it.  It's more about scheduling my meals and eating certain food groups at specific times of the day.  And I have to test my blood gluclose levels four times a day, which means I have to do it during the school day.  I showed my students what I had to do, and they all went "Ewww!!!"  They ask me if it hurts when I prick my finger and I tell them no, but really it does a little.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother in law is coming into town tomorrow, so I'd better straighten up the house a bit.  Looking forward to seeing her and some wonderful friends this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and more good news....Crystal's having a boy!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115757668371461596?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115757668371461596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115757668371461596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115757668371461596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115757668371461596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/09/bobbys-next-project.html' title='Bobby&apos;s next project'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115715197370102969</id><published>2006-09-01T18:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T18:09:35.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you know...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When you have gestational diabetes, your pancreas works overtime to produce insulin, but the insulin does not lower your blood glucose levels. Although insulin does not cross the placenta, glucose and other nutrients do. So extra blood glucose goes through the placenta, giving the baby high blood glucose levels. This causes the baby's pancreas to make extra insulin to get rid of the blood glucose. Since the baby is getting more energy than it needs to grow and develop, the extra energy is stored as fat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it turns out, I do have gestational diabetes. It's not something I could have prevented myself from getting, but I do need to take precautions so that the condition does not harm me or the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly what those precautions are, I am not sure about yet. I go Tuesday morning to take a crash course to find out though. I know it involves a planned diet (probably no more peanut butter Twix bars), exercise (don't I recognize that word?), daily glucose monitoring (pricking my finger every day) and possible insulin injections (did you say needle?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So wish me luck, and as always I'll keep you updated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, I was very happy to watch college football last night. I will say, it felt a little weird without a beer in my hand, but I still enjoyed it. I can't wait to see how Joe T does on Saturday. I'm excited to see the UT-Cal game, the Tech-ND game, and the FSU-Miami game. It's like I can't get enough! Which reminds me, I need to get my college pick 'em choices in. Ahh, Labor Day. Goodbye summer, hello FOOTBALL SEASON!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, this buckaroo inside of me is destined to be a Bulldog fan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115715197370102969?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115715197370102969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115715197370102969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115715197370102969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115715197370102969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/09/did-you-know.html' title='Did you know...'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115679736777768355</id><published>2006-08-28T15:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T15:36:13.113-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Recap</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Feeling much, much better now.  Never got full-out sick, thank goodness.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Weekend before this past - the birthday party on Saturday night was great.  Lots of fun with some great people.  The drinks made my mouth water, but I was satisfied with my burger and cupcake.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;This past weekend - slept a lot.  Slept most of Saturday away, met with friends for pizza Saturday night - low key and perfect.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sunday - took the Northside Mothers First Tour.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Last night - could not sleep.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Today - forgot about 7am Partners in Education meeting.  Oops.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tomorrow and Thursday - Curriculum Night.   So two long, long, long days this week for me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wednesday - meet with the attorney for our will.  Not a fun topic, but necessary.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thursday night - college football, FINALLY!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Friday - Doctor's appointment, oil change, then date night with my hubby.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Saturday - will be watching the Dawgs.  Damn, I've missed football season.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115679736777768355?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115679736777768355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115679736777768355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115679736777768355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115679736777768355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/08/quick-recap.html' title='Quick Recap'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115644824872474573</id><published>2006-08-24T14:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T14:37:28.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh</title><content type='html'>Feeling achy.  Sore throat.  I think I'm getting sick.  Germy kids...they do it to me every fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115644824872474573?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115644824872474573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115644824872474573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115644824872474573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115644824872474573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/08/ugh.html' title='Ugh'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115600249977823826</id><published>2006-08-19T10:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T10:48:19.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Husband, the Handyman</title><content type='html'>If you know my husband, then you are probably laughing your ass off at the title of this post.  He is about the farthest thing from a handyman.  But he's trying, and I've got to give credit where credit is due.  In the past couple of months, he's painted the entire nursery, hung a new light in our dining room, rearranged furniture in just about every room of the house, and assembled or hung countless other shelves, cabinets, and wall hangings that I've asked him to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that I can't figure out:  whenever he gets outwardly frustrated over a project he's working on, I can't help but laugh.  I mean, uncontrollable laughter, where I have to go into another room, bury my head in a pillow and laugh it all out so he can't hear me.  Why is it so funny to me?  I have no idea, but it just is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was great to see familiar faces last night at the birthday party.  I wish I didn't get so tired so early, but I do.  I also had my first case of swollen ankles last night.  I was at the party, and I knew my feet were tired, but then when I looked down, I had no ankle below by left leg!  Just a big, fat, puffy blob above my foot.  Gross.  Anyhow, I'm off to another birthday party tonight, and I need to get going because I've got to prepare a dessert.  And you can bet it's going to be something chocolate!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115600249977823826?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115600249977823826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115600249977823826' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115600249977823826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115600249977823826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-husband-handyman.html' title='My Husband, the Handyman'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115577869071470929</id><published>2006-08-16T20:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T20:38:10.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pizza, Parties, Punches, and Pillows</title><content type='html'>Okay, no I didn't fall off the face of the earth, I've just been too tired to post, and quite frankly, I haven't had that much to share.  Everything seems to okay with my blood sugar levels, so that's good news.  Everything at work is going well too, and I haven't had too many problems so far with my back or my feet, which I was afraid I might.  Things are good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a friend over this evening for pizza and it was great to hang out.  I am really looking forward to this weekend when I can see some folks at a party Friday night as well as be with two of my best friends for another party on Saturday night.  I get to where I really miss my friends at times, and I just want to go out and party like a rock star.  Then I remember that I can't drink or be around smoke, that I'm shaped like rhino, and that I'm doing good to be up past 9pm right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The baby is kicking, punching, and tumbling around and is sure to have some serious ADD someday.  This little one just does not stop.  I can feel it at all times of the day...in the morning, mid-morning, after lunch, mid-afternoon, evening, and in the middle of the night.  When does it sleep???  It's also to the point now, where I can really start to tell where the head is, and which direction the baby is laying.  It's so cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd better get to bed now and lay among my pile of pillows.  I have so many...two for my head, one for my back, one for between by knees, and one that I hug.  Thank god we have a king size bed, or I don't know where my poor husband would find room to sleep!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115577869071470929?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115577869071470929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115577869071470929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115577869071470929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115577869071470929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/08/pizza-parties-punches-and-pillows.html' title='Pizza, Parties, Punches, and Pillows'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115515781687670418</id><published>2006-08-09T16:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T16:10:16.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Drained</title><content type='html'>Between 9:30am this morning and 1:00pm this afternoon I had my blood drawn a total of four times.  With nothing to eat or drink since 9:30 last night - except for a very sugary substance the doctor made me take - I felt weak and literally drained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was too exhausted to write on Monday, but the first day of school went well.  It is so natural to stand while teaching that I really have to remind myself to sit down at times.  My honey surprised me with flowers and bath salts when I got home, both of which I enjoyed.  I'd have much preferred a beer and a hot dog, but oh well, that'll have to wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to the weekend.  I forget during the summer just how valuable weekends are during the rest of the year.  On the shopping list this weekend:  panties.  Again, not a fun item to shop for while pregnant, because most likely I'll have to buy some that will be big enough to double as a car cover during the winter months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115515781687670418?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115515781687670418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115515781687670418' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115515781687670418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115515781687670418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/08/drained.html' title='Drained'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115499752577983172</id><published>2006-08-07T19:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T19:38:45.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to School</title><content type='html'>First day with kids.  Very tired.  8:30 and it's bedtime.  Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115499752577983172?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115499752577983172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115499752577983172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115499752577983172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115499752577983172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/08/back-to-school.html' title='Back to School'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115478722102184282</id><published>2006-08-05T09:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-05T09:13:41.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Failed</title><content type='html'>Not that I could have studied for it, but I didn't pass my diabetes screening test, so I have to go back Wednesday for another.  So this time, instead of not eating all morning and having my blood drawn once, I get to not eat all morning and have my blood drawn once every hour for three hours.  Sounds like fun, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115478722102184282?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115478722102184282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115478722102184282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115478722102184282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115478722102184282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/08/failed.html' title='Failed'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115454791376215274</id><published>2006-08-02T14:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T14:45:13.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Small?</title><content type='html'>I went to the doctor this morning and had blood drawn for the diabetes screening.  Then I waited for the actual doctor to come in and check me out.  I had my tummy measured for the first time today.  I was told I was measuring a little small.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small?  There's a word I haven't heard or even thought of in a long time.  Do I even remember what that word means?  The only thing I can think of that has gotten smaller since I've become pregnant is the space between my stomach and the steering wheel of my car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, no worries, not a big deal, and I go back in four weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small.  Now that's kinda funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115454791376215274?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115454791376215274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115454791376215274' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115454791376215274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115454791376215274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/08/small.html' title='Small?'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115448003583733465</id><published>2006-08-01T19:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T19:53:55.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a boy?????????????</title><content type='html'>Overwhelmingly, the guess has been boy.  My grandmother, mother-in-law, best friend, and countless others have guessed boy.  I saw several coworkers this week as I returned to work, and again, the majority suspect it'll be a boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny, because obviously I have no idea, but the more I hear boy, the more I start to believe it.  I guess if you hear anything over and over, you may tend to believe it.  Boy or girl, I don't care.  I just want it to be healthy, of course.  I go for my diabetes screening tomorrow, which means I can't eat anything until after they draw blood in the morning.  So I'm going to treat myself to some pizza tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually get a pedicure every two or three weeks, but I've worried about the harsh fumes in the nail salons, so I've painted my own nails a lot more often this summer.  Last night, it was a struggle.  My body just doesn't bend like it used to, there's this big belly in the way!  And I'm losing my belly button too.  It hasn't popped out yet, but it's definitely on its way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you read my blog, you know that I am continuously amazed at what pregnancy does to the body.  Here's another thing I never expected:  I got out of the shower the other day and was standing in front of the mirror with just a towel wrapped around me.  I'm brushing my teeth and as I look at myself, I am totally reminded of Spiderman.  Or maybe a fat Spiderwoman.  I could see every vein in my chest and down my arms, and they were so blue!  Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh, pizza's here, and as usual, my world stops for food.  'Til next time....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115448003583733465?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115448003583733465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115448003583733465' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115448003583733465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115448003583733465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/08/its-boy.html' title='It&apos;s a boy?????????????'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115412362604158598</id><published>2006-07-28T19:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T16:53:46.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>oh god, oh god, oh god</title><content type='html'>Panic struck me again today.  It happens every couple of weeks.  I was reading a book, trying to be a good mother-to-be and learn what to do when I actually have this baby in my arms and have to take care of it.  It just became too overwhelming.  Do this, don't do that, and everything in between.  I panicked, threw the book down, dropped to my knees, and begged God to just somehow fill my brain with the correct knowledge when the time comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you might be thinking, "Why don't you just pick the book back up and finish reading it, then you'll know what to do."  Okay, I admit, I'm sure I might have thought that at one time too.  But let me explain:  This book is about as heavy as my breathing becomes after a trip up a flight of stairs, and I really don't think there's any such thing as "finish" when it comes to this book.  And even if I did read every word, I couldn't possibly remember everything I'm supposed to do, much less everything I'm &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; supposed to do.  And this is just one book!  Do you know how many of these types of books are out there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead I indulged in a Peanut Butter Twix bar and felt much better.  Eventually I'll pick the book back up and continue, but for now, I'm going lick the rest of the chocolate off the wrapper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115412362604158598?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115412362604158598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115412362604158598' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115412362604158598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115412362604158598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/07/oh-god-oh-god-oh-god.html' title='oh god, oh god, oh god'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115398885502645930</id><published>2006-07-27T13:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T10:45:00.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Work</title><content type='html'>I've been trying to ease myself back into work by going in each day for a few hours this past week, since I'm back full time starting next week. It's always nice to take things at my own pace, and there's something almost peaceful about a school when there's not hundreds of little people running around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's also something magical about that first day of school. Especially with the little ones. They all come in with their new haircuts and shiny shoes. The really young ones look like little turtles when they trot down the hall with their oversized backpacks and big beady eyes searching for their new classroom. You can feel the anticipation and excitement in the atmosphere, and it's like a new beginning every August.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of August, I can't believe it's already here. Summer flew by, as it always does, but I'm ready for fall. I don't want to rush this time, but I do think I'd be a happier person if it was just a little bit cooler and if I could watch college football on Saturdays!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115398885502645930?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115398885502645930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115398885502645930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115398885502645930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115398885502645930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/07/back-to-work.html' title='Back to Work'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115348395274611691</id><published>2006-07-21T10:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T07:12:32.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my favorite room</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; There is so much love and hard work put into this room. I hope you'll come by and visit sometime when there's a baby occupying its space! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Nursery%20Almost%20Done%20003.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/200/Nursery%20Almost%20Done%20003.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The room is my absolute favorite in the house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I go in, sit and just be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Nursery%20Almost%20Done%20002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/200/Nursery%20Almost%20Done%20002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There are many things that the room still needs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bedding, curtains, baby stuff, you name it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But that's what &lt;a href="http://www.toysrus.com/shop/index.jsp?categoryId=2255957"&gt;BRU&lt;/a&gt; is for! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Nursery%20Almost%20Done%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/200/Nursery%20Almost%20Done%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The wall hangings are cross-stitched Winnie the Pooh characters, made by yours truly. I am working on another one right now, and would like to get two more finished before the baby arrives. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115348395274611691?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115348395274611691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115348395274611691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115348395274611691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115348395274611691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-favorite-room.html' title='my favorite room'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115322601528256543</id><published>2006-07-18T10:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T16:13:12.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Details</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Nursery%20Stage%20Three%20Details%20002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/200/Nursery%20Stage%20Three%20Details%20002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The little loopty-loops were added yesterday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Nursery%20Stage%20Three%20Details%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/200/Nursery%20Stage%20Three%20Details%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight or tomorrow, hubby plans to repaint the trim, and then it should be done, as far as painting goes. He's worked really hard these past few weeks to get it done. I think it's mainly because he plans to party at the music festival this Saturday, and doesn't want to give me any reason to nag. But hey, if it gets it done, I don't care what the motivation is.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's been hard to kind of disappear during the making of this room. Because of the paint, I can't help out or really even be around. They say there's no real harm, but why chance it? Anyways, back to my point...I'm a really hands on kind of person, plus, I enjoy things like painting and home improvement. I've done the majority of the painting in our home, and so letting go of that responsiblity has been a little weird for me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday's quest for new clothes was a big pain in the ass. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Actually, let me rephrase that: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My big ass made yesterday's quest for new clothes a pain. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't mind my belly poking out, but goodness, this whole butt and thigh thing is really getting out of hand. I did come out with a pair of khaki's and pair of jeans. No tops though. I had decided to look for pants first, and by the time I was finished with that task, I was so fed up that I wasn't about to start trying to fit my sausage arms into sleeves. Oh well, maybe I'll try again tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115322601528256543?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115322601528256543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115322601528256543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115322601528256543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115322601528256543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/07/details.html' title='Details'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115308564602383972</id><published>2006-07-16T19:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T16:34:39.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stripes, Naps, and Elastic</title><content type='html'>We're in the process of adding stripes this weekend. Big thanks to Bobby, he's working so hard to get it done. It's really coming along....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Nursery%20Stage%20Two.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/200/Nursery%20Stage%20Two.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I enjoyed a nice three hour nap. Something I won't get to do again soon once school starts back. I always have mixed feelings about the beginning of each school year. It's an exciting time, a time to restart and try new things, and make changes for the better. But it's also the end of the lazy days of summer, sleeping in, and being barefoot most of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the agenda for this coming week will be to get some clothes that fit. I've outgrown a lot of the clothes - the pants at least - that I bought at the beginning of summer. I need some clothes for fall, and for returning to work. Not a fun chore when your belly is shaped like a watermelon already, and you still have months to grow. Welcome elastic, my new best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Nursery%20Stage%20Two.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115308564602383972?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115308564602383972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115308564602383972' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115308564602383972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115308564602383972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/07/stripes-naps-and-elastic.html' title='Stripes, Naps, and Elastic'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115290930928440106</id><published>2006-07-14T18:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T15:35:41.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nursery Stage One</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The goal is to get it done before football season begins. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You know, priorities. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Nursery%20Stage%20One%20002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/200/Nursery%20Stage%20One%20002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Not much to look at now, but it's a start.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/200/Nursery%20Stage%20One%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Stay posted for stage two! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115290930928440106?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115290930928440106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115290930928440106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115290930928440106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115290930928440106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/07/nursery-stage-one.html' title='Nursery Stage One'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115288452851509046</id><published>2006-07-14T11:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T08:48:04.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Effort</title><content type='html'>I was playing with the baby at about 4am this morning. When I say playing I mean, when it kicks I poke back, and we keep this going until the baby stops. It makes me giggle and laugh because it's what little form of communicating I feel like I have with the baby right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so blessed to have this experience. It made me start thinking about how some of the most rewarding things in life take the most effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have friends who have gone - and continue to go - to the ends of the earth for me, and for whom I'd do the same. But it takes being a true friend to have a true friend. I have a husband who makes me happier than I ever thought possible. But working on being a good wife is half of what makes us the couple we are. I have a career that I find gratifying and rewarding. But it takes time, practice and committment to get to that place I consider successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's taking a lot of effort to carry this child. It will take a lot more to deliver it, and the most to try and raise it right.  But I know the reward will be immense. In fact, it already is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115288452851509046?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115288452851509046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115288452851509046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115288452851509046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115288452851509046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/07/effort.html' title='Effort'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115194691793013936</id><published>2006-07-10T10:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T08:00:13.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nursery Colors</title><content type='html'>Spirit Whisper and Key Lime.  First coat of Spirit Whisper is on the wall already!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115194691793013936?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115194691793013936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115194691793013936' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115194691793013936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115194691793013936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/07/nursery-colors.html' title='Nursery Colors'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115220838019622350</id><published>2006-07-06T15:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T12:53:00.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a glimpse</title><content type='html'>Baby Lyng was very active during the ultrasound on Wednesday. He/She kept wanting to turn upside-down! Here's a few of the pictures we got. It was the most amazing thing ever. Some people cry, but when I first saw the image, I just started giggling. I couldn't stop! The technician had to wait for me to get my giggles out before she could go on, because I was shaking my belly as I was laughing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Thumb%20Sucking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/320/Thumb%20Sucking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here it looks like the baby is sucking its thumb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Spine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/320/Spine.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here you can really see bones - the spine, and the leg bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/Little%20Feet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/320/Little%20Feet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's a little foot. I've been feeling little feet a lot lately! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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/24859904-115220838019622350?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115220838019622350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115220838019622350' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115220838019622350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115220838019622350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/07/just-glimpse.html' title='Just a glimpse'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115183983972022561</id><published>2006-07-02T09:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-02T06:30:39.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cry me a river</title><content type='html'>I had a crying spell yesterday.   Brought on by one long, run-on interoggative sentence:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How am I going to manage my household, be a good wife, work full time, and raise a child all at the same time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must go through many pregnant heads, though I don't know how many women would admit it.  I think, though I'll be the first to admit I really don't have any idea, but I think the answer lies in priorities.  What comes first, what comes second, and what doesn't even make the list.  I'm guessing I'll find it easier to leave dirty dishes and a basket full of dirty laundry in order to play with my baby, go meet with some friends, or spend quality time with my husband.  Maybe I'll start today, by leaving the dog unwashed and the floor unswept.  I don't really enjoy those chores anyways.  And maybe I won't go in to work a week early...okay, nevermind, I won't push it.  Baby steps...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115183983972022561?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115183983972022561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115183983972022561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115183983972022561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115183983972022561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/07/cry-me-river.html' title='Cry me a river'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115168006329730069</id><published>2006-06-30T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T10:10:50.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let me eat cake</title><content type='html'>For anyone who ever watched Will and Grace for any length of time, you know that Grace would do anything or go anywhere for cake. Weddings, birthday parties, you name it, if there was going to be cake there, she would go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about how I feel these days! I can't tell you how happy it made me to hear that someone was bringing a chocolate cake to a gathering we went to last weekend. It literally made my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in the grocery store just the other day, doing the weekly buying, and walked down the cake mix aisle. Duncan Hines and Betty Crocker were just shouting out my name. After standing there staring at the variety for such a time that must have made other shoppers uncomfortable, I finally put a box of chocolate cake mix and a can of cream cheese icing in my buggy and walked on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two aisles over I panicked, knowing that if I made that cake, I would eat the WHOLE thing myself. So I took the items back to their spot on the shelf and made myself just a little bit proud of the fact that I didn't just set myself up to eat an entire cake, and a lot disgusted at the fact that I would have eaten an entire cake if given the opportunity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115168006329730069?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115168006329730069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115168006329730069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115168006329730069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115168006329730069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/let-me-eat-cake.html' title='Let me eat cake'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115159058935068444</id><published>2006-06-29T12:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T09:17:59.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Names</title><content type='html'>We've already got names picked out, but we're keeping that information to ourselves. It really didn't take long at all. I think a lot of people spend so much time trying to pick just the right name. I know a name is important, but really, do you have to find a name that isn't popular, or a name that is original, or a name that means this or that in Hebrew, Greek, or whatever? We just picked what we both liked. I think family names are always a good idea. Of course, you should put some thought into it. Like, I think you shouldn't necessarily name your kid Will if your last name is Barrow.   You're welcome to leave your ideas for names...you never know, we could change our minds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the question that usually preceeds the question about names is, "Do you know what you're having?" The answer is no, and we're not finding out. Well, we'll find out, but we'll find out when the rest of the world does...when the baby's born. Just a personal decision, more on the part of my husband, but it's okay with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see Home Depot in our future for this weekend. They're having a paint sale, so we should probably go ahead and pick out some colors for the nursery. I already know I want to do green and white. I'll post some pics when it's painted...probably not for another couple of months!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115159058935068444?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115159058935068444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115159058935068444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115159058935068444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115159058935068444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/baby-names.html' title='Baby Names'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115132502641482732</id><published>2006-06-26T10:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T07:30:26.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Stuff</title><content type='html'>Friday night was spent hanging out with a group of friends, just catching up and playing cards.  Saturday morning we drove down to Peachtree City for Bobby to play some golf, and me to go shopping with a great couple we know.  Bobby loved Peachtree City - mostly for all the golf and golf carts - and wants us all to get jobs and move south someday.  Sunday we got together with some classmates for a summer BBQ despite the rain.  All in all, a busy but fun weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night I was home alone, so I watched TransAmerica.  Whoa.  Good movie, but I will never be able to look at Felicity Huffman the same way again.  I thought she did an outstanding job in that role, but I can't get the image of how she looks in the movie out of my head.  I don't think I was able to fall asleep until 2am that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The baby has been moving around a lot lately.  I feel movement everyday now, at least two or three times a day.  It's not really a kicking feeling like it was a couple of weekends ago.  It's more like a pushing or bumping feeling.  I don't know, hard to explain.  Everytime I try and get Bobby to feel the baby move, it stops!  It's like it knows.  It's funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hard to believe summer break is halfway through.  June is almost over, and before I know it, July will fly by too and it's off to work again.  August 1st is the official start date, but I usually go in a week early in order to get everything done.  Better get off this computer and enjoy summer before it's gone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115132502641482732?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115132502641482732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115132502641482732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115132502641482732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115132502641482732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/random-stuff.html' title='Random Stuff'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115119903724521117</id><published>2006-06-24T23:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T20:30:37.253-05:00</updated><title type='text'>this kinda sucks</title><content type='html'>Friends are in from out of town, everyone's going out tonight, and I have to miss out.  Can't go to the bars, and even if I could, I'd poop out before the party really even gets started anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just me and the dog tonight.  Having a baby is totally worth missing out on a few fun nights.  But it still kinda sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115119903724521117?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115119903724521117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115119903724521117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115119903724521117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115119903724521117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/this-kinda-sucks.html' title='this kinda sucks'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115087654548732730</id><published>2006-06-21T05:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T02:57:31.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moonlight blogging</title><content type='html'>I'm blogging at about 3:30am right now. I find it harder and harder to both get to sleep, and stay asleep. Getting in a comfortable position is one reason, and heartburn is the other. Several times in the past week, I've literally fallen asleep sitting up! I'm usually a belly sleeper, but for obvious reasons I had to give that up. And it's no longer recommended that I sleep on my back, but I just can't seem to get used to sleeping on my left side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/1600/DSCN1262.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7966/1184/320/DSCN1262.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great time at Lake Lure. It was a wonderful anniversary trip. We finally got out of Atlanta, though we had to turn around three times because we kept forgetting things! We did remember to bring the top of our wedding cake, and we each ate a bite or two on Sunday evening. I'm not sure where that tradition comes from or why, but we upheld it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather was nice all weekend. It was a little too hot down on the beach, but for some reason it was a little cooler at the pool. We played putt-putt, went out on the lake a few times, and I did a lot of napping. Bobby even played a pretty good round of golf one morning. It was a fantastic vacation, but I'm glad to be back home. I missed my bed, my shower, and my dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bobby also felt the baby move for the first time over the weekend. I felt it starting to move, so I had him put his hand on my belly, and BUMP! It was nice to be able to share that with him. It's still a very gentle feeling, but it's definitely starting to get stronger. I look forward each day to feeling the baby move, it's kinda like it's saying "hi" to me and it makes me smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115087654548732730?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115087654548732730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115087654548732730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115087654548732730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115087654548732730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/moonlight-blogging.html' title='Moonlight blogging'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115037868629721198</id><published>2006-06-15T11:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T08:45:17.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation</title><content type='html'>We'll be heading &lt;a href="http://www.lakeluregolf.com/index.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; tomorrow for a few relaxing days. It's amazing how time flies. Our anniversary is on Sunday, and I can't believe it's already been a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's not much on the schedule. We'll take a sunset cruise on the lake Saturday night, probably go to the pool or beach a few times, and most definitely sleep and eat a lot. That's pretty much my definition of vacation - doing a bunch of nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll leave you with this bit of humor. Have a great weekend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q.&lt;/strong&gt; The more pregnant I get, the more often strangers smile at me. Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.&lt;/strong&gt; Because you're fatter than they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q.&lt;/strong&gt; What is the most common pregnancy craving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.&lt;/strong&gt; For men to be the ones who get pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q.&lt;/strong&gt; What's the difference between a pregnant woman and a model?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.&lt;/strong&gt; Nothing, if the pregnant woman's husband knows what's good for him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115037868629721198?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115037868629721198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115037868629721198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115037868629721198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115037868629721198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/vacation.html' title='Vacation'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-115031648097524767</id><published>2006-06-14T18:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T15:21:20.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kick!</title><content type='html'>I had an exciting weekend.  I got all sorts of cute baby stuff from my girlfriends - bibs, blankets, hats and pacifiers.  All the little outfits are so cute, I just sit and stare at them.  Aside from spending time with some of my favorite people in the world, I also felt my baby move for the first time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I had felt it last week, but I wasn't sure if what I was feeling was my baby.  They tell you that it is supposed to feel like having butterflies in your tummy.  Well, it doesn't really feel that way to me.  It feels more like someone is taking a Q-tip and poking me from the inside out.  It's very gentle, but it's definitely there.  Now I just sit quietly after eating and wait to feel it again.  Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't.  It's really, really weird!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-115031648097524767?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/115031648097524767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=115031648097524767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115031648097524767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/115031648097524767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/kick.html' title='Kick!'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114985300739186102</id><published>2006-06-09T09:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T06:37:25.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summertime Fun</title><content type='html'>I'm looking forward to the weekend. I spent Wednesday shopping with a dear friend of mine. I plan to spend part of today getting caught up with another best friend. Then it's off to the mountains for a girls weekend with the college roomies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was spent babysitting two little girls of a friend of mine. The girls are 3 and 5 years old, and cute as a button. In four hours, it was a series of non-stop events: the pool, the playground, riding bikes, drawing and coloring. Whew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a big movie person - most of the time I go to the movies for the popcorn and sour jacks. But we recently saw The Break Up. It was okay. I'm also finally getting a chance to get caught up on some movies that have been On Demand for a while. This week I watched Brokeback Mountain and Memoirs of a Geisha. It's nice to have those blocks of time to just sit and relax. I love summer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of random and unrelated, but those are my thoughts for this morning. Have a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114985300739186102?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114985300739186102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114985300739186102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114985300739186102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114985300739186102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/summertime-fun.html' title='Summertime Fun'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114959689274639628</id><published>2006-06-06T10:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T07:29:44.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nesting</title><content type='html'>From Pregnancy Weekly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nesting Instinct&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Around the fifth month of pregnancy, the "nesting" instinct can set in. This is an uncontrollable urge to clean one's house brought on by a desire to prepare a nest for the new baby, to tie up loose ends of old projects and to organize your world. Females of the animal kingdom are all equipped with this same need. It is a primal instinct. Just as you see birds making their nests, mothers-to-be do exactly the same thing. The act of nesting puts you in control and gives a sense of accomplishment toward birth. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh-oh. What if I've been "nesting" my entire life? What if I have always had an uncontrollable urge to clean my house (or straighten the shelves at the grocery store)? What if organzation has always given me a sense of accomplishment? I think I might be in trouble.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114959689274639628?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114959689274639628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114959689274639628' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114959689274639628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114959689274639628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/nesting.html' title='Nesting'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114951406741075526</id><published>2006-06-05T11:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T08:27:47.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How do I love thee?</title><content type='html'>Let me count the ways.  Here's reason #173 that I love my husband:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon hearing the news of our pregnancy, one of his coworkers said that a friend of hers took a side view picture of his wife each month during her pregnancy.  When asked if he would do that, my husband replied...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, if I want to get shot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, honey.  If anyone thought for a moment that they would document my monthly transformation into a water buffalo, they would have been shot.  Smart man.  One of the many reasons I love him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114951406741075526?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114951406741075526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114951406741075526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114951406741075526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114951406741075526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/how-do-i-love-thee.html' title='How do I love thee?'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114924698602191711</id><published>2006-06-02T09:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T06:43:34.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF</title><content type='html'>I'm headed to a reception tonight that I'm very excited about. It should be a good time and I'm sure I'll get to see and catch up with some friends. Tomorrow the hubby and I are headed &lt;a href="http://www.threesistersvineyards.com/main.asp"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. I know I can't drink, but I'm still looking forward to a good time. Plus, all proceeds go to charity, so that's always nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a favorite poem of mine. I've shared it with some of you moms out there, but it has so much new meaning to me now... enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved you from the very start.&lt;br /&gt;You stole my breath, embraced my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Our life together has just begun.&lt;br /&gt;You’re part of me, my little one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As mother with child, each day I knew,&lt;br /&gt;My mind would be filled with thoughts of you.&lt;br /&gt;I’m daydreaming of the things we’ll share,&lt;br /&gt;Like late-night bottles and teddy bears.&lt;br /&gt;Like first steps and skinned up knees,&lt;br /&gt;Like bedtime stories and ABC’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m thinking of things you’ll want to know,&lt;br /&gt;Like how birds fly and flowers grow.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve thought of lessons I’ll need to share,&lt;br /&gt;Like standing tall and playing fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first see your precious face,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll pray your life be touched with grace.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll thank the angels from above,&lt;br /&gt;And promise you unending love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each night I’ll lay you down to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll gently kiss your head and cheek.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll count your little fingers and toes.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll memorize your eyes and nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will linger at your nursery door,&lt;br /&gt;Awed each day that I love you more.&lt;br /&gt;Through misty eyes, I’ll dim the light,&lt;br /&gt;And whisper, “I love you” every night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As mother with child our journey’s begun.&lt;br /&gt;My heart’s yours forever, little one.&lt;br /&gt;I loved you from the very start.&lt;br /&gt;You stole my breath, embraced my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114924698602191711?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114924698602191711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114924698602191711' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114924698602191711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114924698602191711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/tgif.html' title='TGIF'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114919490314529581</id><published>2006-06-01T15:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T15:49:29.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It keeps growing and growing and growing...</title><content type='html'>I swear my ass is like the energizer bunny of packing on the pounds. I had my weigh in at the doctor's office yesterday. 8 pounds since my first visit. I think you're supposed to gain somewhere around 3 pounds the first trimester. So let's just say I'm an overachiever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm only going to get bigger, and that's okay. I'm pregnant. All I've got left is food. I can't drink. I can't go to a bar because of the smoke. I can't use bug spray or tanning beds. I can't get my hair colored, soak in a hot tub, or go bathing suit shopping (okay, so I'm not so disappointed by that last one).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're a true friend, you'll lie to me. You'll tell me how great I look, that I have that pregnancy glow, and that I look &lt;em&gt;healthy&lt;/em&gt;. I'll know you're lying, but that's okay. Deep inside, I'll know you're thinking that my arms look more like thighs, and my thighs look more like tree trunks. But if you really love me, you'll know what to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And more importantly, you'll know what not to say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114919490314529581?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114919490314529581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114919490314529581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114919490314529581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114919490314529581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/06/it-keeps-growing-and-growing-and.html' title='It keeps growing and growing and growing...'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114882087276678736</id><published>2006-05-28T10:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T07:57:35.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>School's Out for Summer!</title><content type='html'>The kids had their last day of school on Friday. What a welcome relief. A neat tradition at my school is that on the last day of school, I gather all the rhythm instruments I have - maracas, drums, tambourines, woodblocks, claves, bells, cymbals, you name it- and I put them on a cart and take them out back where the kids get on the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, the students are led out to the buses and all the teachers grab an instrument or two and just start banging away. It is the worst yet best noise you've ever heard. And it gets LOUD. It's like all the teachers are just taking out a years worth of work out on these instruments and when the buses start rolling, somehow it gets even LOUDER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year I get one or two teachers that get a little overzealous and break something. This year one of my assistant principals broke a shaker, and I told her I'd need more money in my budget...we'll see if that works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gladly welcome summer. It's hot, and I know that pregnant women feel about 10 degrees hotter than normal. Luckily for me, I've always been one to be a little on the cold side - ask anyone who's ever had to tailgate in the late fall with me. But I did go and get some capris (I won't dare wear shorts in public at this point) and some tops that will hopefully not only keep me cool, but will fit me through the early fall. I'll have to tell you about that shopping experience in another post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house is slowly starting to accumulate baby stuff. I know it's early, and there isn't much now. It started with a few books and pregnancy magazines, but it's expanding to actual, real baby stuff now - mostly gifts that I truly appreciate. I don't know where we'll evenutally put all the stuff we need in this little house of ours, but I'm hoping years of playing tetris as a child will pay off and I'll be able to find just the right spot for everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and thanks to everyone for all the well wishes and advice that I've gotten via this blog, email, telephone and cards. It means a lot. I hope your Memorial Day weekend grants you some relaxation without too much traffic!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114882087276678736?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114882087276678736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114882087276678736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114882087276678736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114882087276678736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/05/schools-out-for-summer.html' title='School&apos;s Out for Summer!'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114833335692820120</id><published>2006-05-22T15:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T16:30:34.026-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I wonder...</title><content type='html'>I wonder a lot these days. I wonder if my baby's healthy, or growing properly, or enjoying the macdonald's that I ate twice last week (does it really want spinach over french fries?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if the baby dances a jig when I take a couple of sips of my hubby's caffine-filled coke, or if it likes to hear me singing all day long in my classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how it's going to fit through you-know-where, and if I'll be brave and strong enough to handle the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if it's a boy or a girl, if it will look more like me or Bobby, and if it will be musical, athletic , neither or both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if my tummy will ever be able to go back to normal, and why are my legs are starting to remind me of cottage cheese?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if this baby knows how much I already love it and how much its daddy does too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wondering...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114833335692820120?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114833335692820120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114833335692820120' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114833335692820120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114833335692820120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-wonder.html' title='I wonder...'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114772236539217109</id><published>2006-05-15T14:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T18:00:22.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll be "shhh" for a little while</title><content type='html'>You might not hear much from me this week. I have rehearsals all week long, a 3rd grade musical Tuesday during the day and at night, and performances of "Annie" with the middle school on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. I haven't quite figured out when I'm supposed to sleep, eat, or even teach my normal music classes in between all this, but I'm thinking that if I skip blogging for a few days, that might free up some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an awesome weekend, but I'll have to fill you in later. I have a serious nap-attack coming on (not to be confused with snack-attack), and I refuse to ignore it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114772236539217109?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114772236539217109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114772236539217109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114772236539217109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114772236539217109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/05/ill-be-shhh-for-little-while.html' title='I&apos;ll be &quot;shhh&quot; for a little while'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114737770474983176</id><published>2006-05-12T09:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T15:02:24.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>whoa, look at...hey wait, that's my butt!</title><content type='html'>I enjoyed sleeping in this morning. Not late, but definitely later than 5:30am. My county has the day off today, due to an unused weather day. We would have had a few more if it hadn't been for Sonny's gas conservation days back in the fall, but that's another story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While taking a shower this morning, I felt an itchy on my back, and it felt like a bump. Figuring a mosquito had enjoyed dinner off my back at some point last night, I decided to check it out. I dried off, stood with my back facing the mirror, then cranked my head around to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, forget the bump on my back. It looked like a red pepper flake compared to what was hanging out below. All I could see was this big, huge ass. Does that thing have its own zip code? Is that mine?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slowly reached down and put my hand to the rhino rump and yup, sure enough, it belonged to me. Ugh. When did that happen? It's not often I look back at my bare butt, but maybe if I had more often, I wouldn't be in such shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew my belly and waist had grown. I can hear the button from my pants screaming for mercy almost daily. But from now on, I think I'll stick to facing the front while looking in the mirror. And if for some reason I do have to look at my reflection from the backside, I'll be sure to put clothes on. Maybe an overcoat too. And with the lights off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114737770474983176?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114737770474983176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114737770474983176' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114737770474983176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114737770474983176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/05/whoa-look-athey-wait-thats-my-butt.html' title='whoa, look at...hey wait, that&apos;s my butt!'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114737818675687718</id><published>2006-05-11T18:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T15:13:55.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>little minds</title><content type='html'>After teaching my lesson with kindergarten today, we sat in a circle and shared something interesting about our lives at the moment. I heard a lot about the new Ice Age movie. I also listened to them tell me about their trips to the aquarium and the outcomes of their soccer games. Mostly, I listened to them explain the reasons behind their bruises and scrapes. The reasons, of course, included bicycle accidents, falls off the monkeybars, and devious brothers and sisters being mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it came time for me to share my interesting news, I said, "I'm going to have a baby."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amid the skrieks, shrills, and laughter, one child stood up, went to my desk, pointed to my wedding picture and said, "That's because you got married!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's right, little one. That's how it happened. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114737818675687718?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114737818675687718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114737818675687718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114737818675687718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114737818675687718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/05/little-minds.html' title='little minds'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114720531739660135</id><published>2006-05-09T15:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T15:12:26.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>start spreadin' the news</title><content type='html'>So now more and more people are finding out about this pregnancy, which makes it more exciting for us. When it was a secret, it was almost like it wasn't real. Now that people are starting to find out (and notice my growing belly) it's like, oh my gosh, this is really happening. There's no turning back now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny to hear and see the different reactions that you get when people find out. Everything from wild, excited, high-pitched screaming to almost literally watching people pick their jaws up off the floor. It's really been quite entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm slowly counting down the days until the end of the school year. As a kid, I could not wait for summer. Little did I know just how much my teachers were yearning for the same break. Actually, it's the teachers who want summer more than the kids. Most teachers, including myself, find great pleasure and reward in working with children on a daily basis. But there is also something so immensely wonderful about knowing that you don't have to go back for 8 entire weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last summer I was busy with my wedding, my honeymoon, and my best friend's wedding. This year I have no real big plans. We'll take an anniversary trip. Right now we're looking at a long weekend on Lake Lure in North Carolina. It won't be Mexico, but hey, we can't do that every year. I think I'm just going to sit back and enjoy the time off. And it can't come soon enough!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114720531739660135?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114720531739660135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114720531739660135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114720531739660135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114720531739660135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/05/start-spreadin-news.html' title='start spreadin&apos; the news'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114712678089495153</id><published>2006-05-03T21:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:58:56.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thumpity thump thump</title><content type='html'>Went to the doctor today to hear the heartbeat. After the usual 30 minutes in the waiting room, then the additional 25 minutes in the actual clinical room, the doc came in holding a doppler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was placed against my tummy, and there was a bunch of sliding around and background noise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doc: "Oh, there it is!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait! I didn't hear it! All I could hear was the noise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Um, could you find it again? I'd like to hear it again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More like, I couldn't hear it to begin with! All I can hear is noise! Am I a bad mom already? I can't even tell my baby's heartbeat from noise? No, maybe she's just in a hurry, and she didn't really hear it, and she's trying to trick me. What the hell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Did you hear it, honey?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby: "Yeah, didn't you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nod and lie yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More noise, then there it was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is when I'm supposed to tell you that I teared up, that I cried, and that I was too choked up for words and when I finally was able to speak, I described it as the most beautiful sound in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "It sounds like there's a rabbit in my tummy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doc: "Yes, the baby's heartbeat is very fast. About 155 beats per minute. That is good. It is a good strong heartbeat, and you're doing well. Okay, that's it. See you back in about 4 weeks. Any questions?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Um, no, I don't think so. Thanks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doc: "Okay, well, call us if you need anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, in retrospect, it truly was the most beautiful sound that I'd ever heard. But it really did sound like a rabbit at first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114712678089495153?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114712678089495153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114712678089495153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114712678089495153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114712678089495153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/05/thumpity-thump-thump.html' title='thumpity thump thump'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114712582199124076</id><published>2006-04-30T17:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:32:55.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'>happy birthday to me</title><content type='html'>And to Bobby. We had our birthdays this past weekend. Mine was on Friday, and his was on Saturday. We're not the same age, he's two years and a day older than me. But it's fun to share our birthday celebrations each year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It occured to me that this is my last 20-something birthday. Kinda scary, but kinda not. I don't "feel" 29, whatever that is supposed to feel like. And since I don't really know what 29 is supposed to feel like, then maybe I actually do feel 29. Okay, I don't think the last two sentences made much sense. Nevermind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to see a movie Friday night, then Saturday we spent the day at the Inman Park festival. It was fun, a lot of walking, which is good for me, and then we visited with some friends who live in the area. Later that night, we enjoyed a tasty seafood dinner, then I crashed after eating my dessert. I thoroughly enjoyed the weekend, and wish there could be more like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114712582199124076?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114712582199124076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114712582199124076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114712582199124076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114712582199124076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/04/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='happy birthday to me'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114453911420099627</id><published>2006-04-08T18:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:34:33.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cravings</title><content type='html'>Things I have craved recently:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macaroni and Cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peanut Butter and Strawberry Jelly Sandwiches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oranges, Oranges, and Orange Juice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recees Peanut Butter Cups (actually, the Easter Egg type)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could crave spinach or broccoli. I wish I could crave any kind of meat at all (I really need the protein!) but I just don't. I want carbs, carbs, carbs. Then I go into a carb coma. I guess I'd better eat something green and fulfilling tonight...I've got someone else to think about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog is much better. I took her to the vet Friday. It took $200 to tell me that she has intestinal distress. No, really?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went and had my repeat ultrasound Friday too. Everything looked great. It is amazing how much the baby grew in just ten days. The growth was exponential! You couldn't see the heartbeat as well, but that's because there was more body this time. We go back in four weeks, and hopefully we will be able to actually hear the heartbeat!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114453911420099627?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114453911420099627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114453911420099627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114453911420099627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114453911420099627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/04/cravings.html' title='cravings'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114439893804892685</id><published>2006-04-07T06:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:35:00.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>training</title><content type='html'>I like to think that I've trained my dog, Lucy, pretty well. She's not the best behaved dog, and she doesn't get along well with big dogs, but she's an all around good girl. I took her to training school and she knows basic commands, and she'll do just about anything for food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I think she's trying to train me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's sick, and it's driving me crazy. She's vomiting, and she's got diarrhea. Nice details, I know. But the poor thing just can't tell me what's wrong. And of course, this all happens in the middle of the night. It's about 4:30am right now. Thank goodness I don't have to work in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all night, I've been letting her out, or cleaning up her messes. Not much fun. But I guess this is kinda what it'll be like when the baby arrives. Only I'm sure I won't even get the few hours of sleep that I've gotten tonight. So thanks, Lucy, for the lesson. Now, could you stop messing up the house?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114439893804892685?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114439893804892685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114439893804892685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114439893804892685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114439893804892685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/04/training.html' title='training'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114414898323963157</id><published>2006-04-04T05:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:35:16.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>spring break</title><content type='html'>Spring break always means a road trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a kid, it meant going to visit the grandparents. Sometimes even a trip to Disney World.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a college kid and young adult, it meant drinking all day long somewhere in the nasty state of Florida, eating fresh seafood, and partying at a local pub at night. It meant getting up early just to go out and sleep some more on the beach. It meant cracking your first beer before noon, and finishing your last after 2am. It meant spending time with my best friends making memories that we could laugh about for years to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My, how things have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring break started out for me this year as a house cleaning project. I got the house cleaned and organized from top to bottom, which only took half a day, as most of you know, I am extremely neat to begin with. I did laundry. I ironed shirts. I organized closets. I scrubbed, wiped, dusted, and washed... and listened to my favorite songs all the while. Not only did I look forward to this event, but I actually enjoyed it. Heartbreaking for some of you, I know. Don't be too disappointed in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came a trip to visit my grandmother in North Georgia. A wonderful visit, as it always is. I am grateful to be almost 30 with still a living grandparent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring break continued with a trip to Augusta, to see my dear friend. We hung out, ate pizza and wings, watched movies and even got a pedicure. Sounds fun, and it was. I smelled every beer my friend drank and hit the pillow before 11pm. What a bust for her, but a must for me. Still, somtimes in life, if you're lucky, you find that friend with whom everything seems the same as it always was, even though everything has completely changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring break will continue on the rest of the week with me visiting and lunching with friends and family. Do I miss the old spring break? Sure, who wouldn't? Those times made up some of the fondest memories of my life. Times I will never forget, and a few times that I will never remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I dislike the new spring break? Not at all. It's evolving for me, just as it always has. I'm sure in a couple of years I'll end up back at Disneyworld. Maybe next time with a stroller and hopefully a beer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114414898323963157?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114414898323963157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114414898323963157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114414898323963157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114414898323963157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/04/spring-break.html' title='spring break'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114366591465408254</id><published>2006-03-29T15:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:35:27.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'>fat jeans</title><content type='html'>Today was a jeans day at work. Each Wednesday this month we get to wear jeans if we pay a dollar, and it's to raise money for Relay for Life. Not only do I support a good cause, but I get to do so in relative comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, sort of. Now, visual signs of pregnancy this early in the game are acne, marked tiredness and fatigue, faster growing nails and fuller hair. NOT a protruding stomach. At least not from the fetus. HOWEVER, a protruding stomach is a symptom of bloating...very common in early pregnancy. I guess it could also be from all the pasta I ate this weekend and the piece of cake I devoured at a party this afternoon. Nonetheless, the jeans were tight and uncomfortable this morning (plus, they had just been washed, and girls, you know how jeans fit after coming out of the dryer) and so I resorted to my "fat" jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fat jeans. The pair that's there for you when nothing else will do. The pair that loves you and does you right, even though you hate them. The pair that hangs patiently every month in the back of the closet, just waiting for those couple of days each month when you've thrown everything else on the floor. Fat jeans don't get enough credit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess maybe in the coming months I'll be getting more wear out of my fat jeans. Maybe I'll appreciate them more. Most likely I'll just wish I could still fit into the beloved skinny jeans again. The skinny jeans that make the legs look longer, the butt look perkier, and the tummy look flatter. The skinny jeans, the magical illusionist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. Move over skinny jeans. Looks like the fat jeans will be taking your place for a little while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114366591465408254?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114366591465408254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114366591465408254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114366591465408254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114366591465408254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/03/fat-jeans.html' title='fat jeans'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114359038065166343</id><published>2006-03-28T18:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:35:37.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ultra cool</title><content type='html'>I had my first prenatal visit today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with me peeing in a cup, of course. Actually, it started with a bunch of paperwork, then came the peeing in a cup. Moving on.... the doctor gave us the basics of prenatal care and guidelines, handed us a big packet about what to do and what not to do, then some routine tests were taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Among the coolest things that I have ever seen in my entire life was the ultrasound. I mean, I've seen plenty of other people's ultrasound pictures, but it's totally different when it's from inside your own body. All you could really see was this little blinking light. It was the baby's heartbeat. It was just blinking in time, like a silent little metronome. Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back next Friday for a repeat ultrasound. I measured a little smaller than we were expecting, so it's just to make sure everything's okay. I can't wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114359038065166343?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114359038065166343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114359038065166343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114359038065166343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114359038065166343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/03/ultra-cool.html' title='ultra cool'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859904.post-114349887132568920</id><published>2006-03-27T17:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:40:47.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>back to the blog</title><content type='html'>Ready to share with you the ups and downs of my pregnancy and life as an expectant mother. God only knows what will end up on here! Read if you dare, and thanks for stopping by!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24859904-114349887132568920?l=elizlyng.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/feeds/114349887132568920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24859904&amp;postID=114349887132568920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114349887132568920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24859904/posts/default/114349887132568920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizlyng.blogspot.com/2006/03/back-to-blog.html' title='back to the blog'/><author><name>liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01212050418248005181</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
