tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56557593752019970202024-03-04T20:22:38.336-08:00By Sea or By Air - Adventures of our FamilyMichaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.comBlogger246125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-59661555195933579772009-08-12T06:30:00.000-07:002009-08-12T06:36:18.515-07:0040 pounds<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8DBeR3tMYAvpiYml9oxIoB_vvb-Eb-32v54D0I7d91plw9SM9cJSw3ab3BxORAzFadGqP-LcBW9p1ylnjpJK1oFMKNNWh7_Wqyv_veIBorfcygsC04GqLxPAMc4ilr1zRGH0-Uqb7XkG/s1600-h/IMG_2221.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369070111075292114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8DBeR3tMYAvpiYml9oxIoB_vvb-Eb-32v54D0I7d91plw9SM9cJSw3ab3BxORAzFadGqP-LcBW9p1ylnjpJK1oFMKNNWh7_Wqyv_veIBorfcygsC04GqLxPAMc4ilr1zRGH0-Uqb7XkG/s320/IMG_2221.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I can't believe it. 40 pounds are gone. Gone forever. I feel like a new person. My goal is getting close enough that it is in sight.</div><div> </div><div>I've been working out like a mad women - 6 days a week. Running and strength training. But the weight has been coming off very slowly. I haven't been watching what I've been eating as much. So I'm back on track and following weight watchers. I've done it enough over the years to know what I'm doing and how to get results with it. So, off we go.</div><br /><div>I have 16 pounds to go to get to my "goal weight", but would love to lose another 10 after that. I'll take the 16 and anything else after that is gravy. And I like gravy. LOL</div><br /><div>Above is a picture of me that Todd took last night. I'm down 3 clothing sizes and will hopefully lose another 2.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-8649050747680183792009-06-23T16:03:00.001-07:002009-06-23T16:06:13.668-07:00By the numbers.<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Just a few numbers to throw out there</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">33 - pounds gone forever</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">3 - sizes I've gone down</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">6.2 - miles I ran today</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">8 - days until we being our new workout routine</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">2 - pieces in my bathing suit</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-17135466297866805722009-06-12T12:35:00.000-07:002009-06-12T12:39:10.420-07:00Current Will-isms<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Here are a few of Will's latest over the last few days.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Today he hid my stability ball in the shower after I told him not to put it in the shower (as he rolled it past me as I'm blowdrying my hair). I asked him if he put it in the shower. His response was "nope, I sure didn't. There isn't ANYthing green in your shower right now". </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Yesterday he climbed on top of me while I was laying on my bed. He said "mommy, you're soft". Soft? Hmm...I've been busting my butt working out. "Yes, mommy. You're soft. Like a pillow". Well, crap. Okay...."what about daddy, Will? Is daddy soft like a pillow?" "No, daddy is prickly." That made me feel a bit better. I might be soft, but daddy's a prick. heh</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Then again today he stroked my bare arm and said "see, your skin is so soft, mommy". A-ha, much better. ;)</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-32171401662808792432009-06-10T12:50:00.000-07:002009-06-10T12:58:15.442-07:00Having a baby makes you a negligent blogger<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Sorry about that...I guess I haven't blogged in - oh, 2 months - whoops. Having two kids and getting in shape makes for busy days.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Let's see, what's the latest with all of us..........</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Todd - he took a buy out from his civilian employer and accepted a big fat check to leave his job. Hooray! Last Friday was his last day. We're looking forward to a happier daddy, more free time and not too much less money. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Will - Just finished up his first year of preschool. He's a rowdy, loud and fun 3 1/2 year old. Which means I end up tired a lot. He frustrates me beyond measure, but I sure do love him. He says he wants to learn to ski this summer, so we plan on teaching him.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Evan - what can I say about this little guy? He's such a blessing. A great sleeper, eater and just over all, so easy going and happy. He's probably the best baby ever born. He sleeps 10-12 hours at night w/o waking and goes right back to sleep as soon as he's nursed. He's a great napper and a happy little guy. He's full of smiles and laughs. I'm looking forward to seeing him roll over soon.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Me - I'm on a mission. So far, I've lost 32 lbs. (remember, this isn't baby weight - this is MY weight. I only gained 4 lbs while pregnant with E and it was gone when he was born at almost 10 lbs.) Ideally, I'd like to lose another 30-35. But honestly, I'll be happy with 20 more. I've been running - a lot. It's amazing. I feel so empowered to be able to accomplish a goal every single day. I'm running about 3 1/2 to 5 miles a day. It depends on the day and whether or not I'm running on the treadmill or hitting the road. <br /><br />My goals are go compete in a Sprint Tri - it's August 8th. There's another one July 11th, but I just don't feel I'll be ready yet. So I have 2 months to finish getting ready for the Tri. It's a 200 yard pool swim, a 9 mile bike and a 3.1 mile run. Over all, about as small of a Tri as you can do.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Todd and I are going to Dayton, OH in September for the Air Force Marathon. He's going to run the full marathon - 26.2 and I'm going to run the 10k (6.2 miles).</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">That's about all for now. I'll try and update again soon.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-15096633276694712182009-04-16T18:51:00.000-07:002009-04-16T18:55:44.671-07:00First time for everything<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I nursed Will for 18 months. We had our fair share of trials, but managed to work through all of them. Evan has been nursing for less than a month and we've hit the big one. Mastitis has found it's way into our home - and into my bra.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Yesterday I started aching. Last night when I went to bed, I was sore and tender to the touch. I was freezing - I couldn't get warm, I cranked up the furnace and piled on 2 extra blankets in bed. I shivered and shivered and finally fell asleep. I woke up at midnight in a fair amount of pain - and still cold. I took some tylenol and made Todd hold me to try and keep me warm. I finally fell back asleep about 1:30.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">This morning I woke up and checked the mirror. The tell tale red streaks where all over the upper portion of my left breast. My whole body ached and I felt like I'd been hit by a truck.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Thankfully the doctor's office got me in this afternoon and I was able to get a prescription for antibiotics. Hopefully I'll feel better quickly - this weekend is our shower and we have family in town. I certainly don't want to feel horrible all weekend.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Let's hope I never get mastitis again. Eep!</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-29094352717024711922009-04-10T19:54:00.000-07:002009-04-10T20:00:28.698-07:00As if the numbers on the scale weren't motivation enough<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm calling this a "before and after" shot. The picture of our family was taken at Easter last year (that's my dad next to me - Hi Dad!) I knew I was fat then, but look at my face. It almost looks swollen. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfnUaa9VvCffGrfa3VM4qV_LmMKvI-wajoTXQ0vvsQKcq6i5i7viCApzFlZKuw8XWpw2WP41pYkUCYDWUwPTLKwBrf3P-shnGfZN2hvQOoIUkeUzuZja1h-eY_h-SukzliwN3BZscE3d3B/s1600-h/IMG_4867.jpg"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323262426834985746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfnUaa9VvCffGrfa3VM4qV_LmMKvI-wajoTXQ0vvsQKcq6i5i7viCApzFlZKuw8XWpw2WP41pYkUCYDWUwPTLKwBrf3P-shnGfZN2hvQOoIUkeUzuZja1h-eY_h-SukzliwN3BZscE3d3B/s320/IMG_4867.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">This picture was taken in Feb - 1o months after the group picture. And 8 months pregnant. Now look at my cheeks and my neck. Wow, oh wow!! Can I just say "damn, I look GOOD!"</span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVly3R98hOPEuhmkIMm433dAhcP0Qs420K438bxSA9t1h52HWJIfqKVz6F46X73zrk_saXU-yyG_DcXbCOQelZOCAbqr9kaKCSO8ntt1cXVa0RHDKNcRBoeFELt0F7zCmqxZbrmg8FC0lF/s1600-h/P2274951.JPG"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323262210106147922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVly3R98hOPEuhmkIMm433dAhcP0Qs420K438bxSA9t1h52HWJIfqKVz6F46X73zrk_saXU-yyG_DcXbCOQelZOCAbqr9kaKCSO8ntt1cXVa0RHDKNcRBoeFELt0F7zCmqxZbrmg8FC0lF/s320/P2274951.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> That's the first 25 lbs. Can't wait to see what happens with the next 25. Woot!<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HeI__iIovdCnXTbr99Fp0PMQcblPRo_KfACE7p6g5lz3oiXM9i_AtEICWkZXvv8EIMUdzJGtUJ5ro_RSvMZCD-encpeaaWL5tD0NDBrz_uo4Fi7HFY584rcch3jmAUU9_0ybadNuVj9G/s1600-h/IMG_4867.jpg"></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /><br /></span><br /></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-3056225513236934632009-04-09T12:53:00.000-07:002009-04-09T13:04:29.778-07:00Positive motivation<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Last fall I packed up all of my summer clothes and put them away to make room for my maternity clothes in my closet. Today I pulled them back out and packed up the maternity clothes. I also had 2 bags of clothes a friend of mine passed down to me when she lost weight. Unfortunately for me, when I got home with the clothes, they had all been too small. So I packed them away.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Welp, they fit. They're a full clothing size smaller than I was wearing before I got pregnant. Actually, when I got pregnant, my current size was too tight anyway. So in reality, they're 2 sizes smaller than I was wearing when I got pregnant last July.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">That feels awesome.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Only thing that will feel better is when they're all too big for me to wear!</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;">I've been working out, also. I did 3 thirty minute workouts on the treadmill this week - Mon/Tues/Wed. I even ran 2 of the days. It felt great to get back to running. I can't wait to push it up to running a full mile. Today I took it easy and did a lower body workout video online (via youtube - gotta love it) and I'm taking the boys for a stroller ride around the block in a bit. </span></div><span style="font-family:Arial;"><div align="justify"><br />Todd will be home next week and I'm planning on hitting the gym for the first time. I figure if I nurse Evan and top him off well, I can run out for an hour and a half to go workout. Worst case, there's pumped milk in the freeze for Todd to give him. It'll feel good to get out for an hour and exercise my muscles.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">I've set a goal for myself - I'm going to do a Sprint Tri this summer. The one I've selected is a 200 yard swim, a 7.5 mile bike and a 2.5 mile run. That's pretty much as small of a triathlon as you can get, so I think it's a good start. If that one goes well in July, then there's another in August. It's a 200 yard swim, a 9 mile bike and a 3 mile run. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Once I get released at my 6 week PP checkup, that'll give me just over 2 months to train. I'm going to go to spinning classes and swim laps at the gym. I just need to find a bike to use for the actual races. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></span> </div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-10688893212754727982009-04-07T14:56:00.000-07:002009-04-07T15:02:10.140-07:00I feel like a one legged man<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">........in an ass kicking contest.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Being a "single" mom of 2 is exhausting. We're doing well, no major catastrophies, thankfully. It is tough, but we're surviving. Everyone is still getting bathed, fed and the house is mostly clean. Okay, somewhat clean - but it will be clean again before Todd gets home. I've even worked out the last 2 days.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">We only had 1 "accident" worth reporting. It involves marker and the living room carpet. Thankfully it almost all came out. Todd's more detail oriented than I am, so he can finish getting the rest of it up off the floor. ha ha</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-16716695537165835142009-04-04T06:45:00.000-07:002009-04-04T06:53:29.967-07:00Our non-event<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">With everything else going on in our lives lately, Todd and I were both concerned about the stress a new baby would cause in our house and to our marriage. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Little did we know that by a week or so old, we'd dub Evan as the "non-event". He is the easiest, most laid back baby EVER. Todd even said it's almost like having a baby only part-time. He never cries - well, unless we're in the car or he's getting a bath. He's a great eater and a fantastic sleeper.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Seriously, fantastic sleeper. I don't think Will slept this well until he was about 5 months old. Last night Evan went to bed in the pack and play at 9:00. He woke up to nurse a little after 1 this morning. Then he woke again at 4:45 and slept until 7:30 after that. The night before he went down at 8:30, woke at 12:30 and then at 5:30. After his 5:30 feeding, I had to wake him up at 9 am so we could leave for Mom's group.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">He makes me want to have a half dozen more.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Okay, not really, but you get the idea.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-72197141650102567662009-04-01T05:44:00.001-07:002009-04-01T05:49:35.045-07:00How lucky am I?<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I lay mostly awake in bed this morning breathing in the scent of the baby snuggled up to my body, nursing at my breast. The sweetest smell in the entire world. Just past him I see the form of my sleeping husband in the half darkness. The sight of him is comforting and reassuring. In comes my other son. He climbs into bed and snuggles up to my other side and kisses me and whispers "I love you, mommy". The best words ever spoken. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">My senses were overwhelmed this morning by how lucky I am to be surrounded by these three men.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-82964351326332606302009-03-28T06:53:00.000-07:002009-03-28T06:57:22.053-07:00Things I've learned after a second pregnancy<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">1. Having a second baby is 100 times easier than having a first baby. If I'd known this, I would have had the 2nd one first.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">2. Weighing 23 lbs less than you did when you got pregnant at 1 week post partum makes for a great weight loss motivator. I'm seeing numbers on the scale I haven't seen in years. It's exciting and addictive.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">3. Never believe someone when they diagnose you as a Type II diabetic while pregnant.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-79380843954801547962009-03-21T13:50:00.001-07:002009-03-22T09:00:28.252-07:00A bit of a scary afternoon with a happy ending<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Yesterday proceeded as planned - another few hours of contractions, a bit of dilation and then an epidural (happy day). Evan was tolerating labor really, really well. But after a few hours his heart rate started to dip a bit during the contractions. This was the same thing that happened with Will and I wasn't too alarmed. </span></div><br /><p align="justify"><br /></p><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><p align="justify"><br /></p><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">They turned off the pitocin and I spent the next several hours laying on my side in the bed with the oxygen mask strapped to my face. Evan would do well for a while and then he'd get angry again. So, they'd come in and roll me over to the other side. Since the pitocin was off, my contractions weren't as strong or quite as frequent. So we waited for my body to do the work and dilate my cervix more slowly than originally anticipated. At 5 pm I was told I could finally sit up again. I was able to sit upright and surf the net for a bit. The plan was for Evan's weight and gravity to rest on my cervix and dilate it that last 1-2 cm. A few minutes before 6 pm the doctor came to check on me. He made the joke that I was enjoying myself way too much. </span></div><br /><p align="justify"><br /></p><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><p align="justify"><br /></p><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Not for long.</span></div><br /><p align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">He checked my dilation and something about my being checked set Evan off. His heart rate plummeted and things got a bit scary. Several nurses up front didn't realize the doctor was with me and they all came running into our room. It was tense for several minutes as everyone watched the monitors. I started praying that everything was going to be okay. I was afraid for the first time. At 6:02 my doctor started giving me instructions on what to expect - because if things didn't change 180 degrees in 60 seconds, we were going in for an emergency c-section. He was explaining to me that he'd have Evan out in under 5 minutes and that the rest of my surgery would take about 30 minutes total. </span></p><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I was stuck on my side, frozen, not allowed to move. Barely breathing, listening to Evan's heart rate on the monitor. Everything stabilized quickly and the tension released. Every time a contraction came I prayed and listened to that heart rate. He was still having dips during my contractions, but not like he had been.</span></div><br /><p align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">At 6:40 I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to start pushing - I wanted my baby out. I was too scared having him inside me at this point. Todd went and got a nurse and told them I wanted to push. I still had a rim of cervix left, but they told me that I could go ahead and start pushing.</span></p><p align="justify"> </p><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">They called the doc and told him I wanted to push. Ordinarily, I would have started without him, but they wanted him there. At 6:45 I pushed for the first time. I don't know what it was, but it was so much more difficult this time. I think I was working SO hard because I wanted him out SO badly. I was afraid for him and for me and I wanted him in my arms where he was safe. The nurses told me he was "right there", so it'd only take a few minutes.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">At 7:02 pm, March 20th, 2009, Evan Parker entered the world. As he came out the doctor said "cord once, cord twice, cord three times." Evan's cord was wrapped around his neck and torso three times. Then as he slipped the rest of the way out we discovered the very scary reason for his heart rate issues. A knot in his cord. Thanks be to God that the knot was loose. The doctor slipped a finger through it to loosen it a bit. The reaction in the room was one of total shock. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">He was big, a bit blue and really limp. Looking at his limp form was terrifying. The doctor was rubbing him as hard as he could and jostling him trying to get him moving. Thankfully he was crying within a few seconds and everything was okay. I think we all breathed a sigh of relief. He perked up really quickly. He ended up not even needing oxygen or anything.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;">We found out on Saturday that every member of the staff was watching the monitors at the nursing station while I was pushing - every time I pushed his heart rate was dropping down into the 30 beats per minute range. Everyone that's come in to see us/check on us - peds, OBs, nurses, etc have mentioned the knot to us. Word's gotten around about it.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;">Thankfully I'm sitting here watching a perfectly healthy, beautiful baby boy sleeping in his hospital bassinett. It was a whole lot of fright, but couldn't have turned out better.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-58550968569706288532009-03-20T06:53:00.001-07:002009-03-20T06:59:09.988-07:00Birthin' and bloggin'<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Oh, how I love technology. :)<br /><br />It's a few minutes before 10 am on Friday the 20th. Evan's birthday - it's official this time.<br /><br />We arrived a few minutes after 7 and were taken to our room. Paperwork was filled out and my IV was hooked up. In regular fashion for me, the vein blew the first time and it took two tries to get the IV in. And as always for me, my blood pressure bottomed out and I almost blacked out immediately afterwards. The nurse said my pressure was 68/32. Then they informed me that I'm GBS positive, so they added a bag of antibiotics to my IV. And once again, I almost passed out.<br /><br />Getting the trend, here? I love needles. LOL<br /><br />My doctor came and checked me a few minutes before 9 am and pronounced I was 3-4cm, 80% effaced and Evan was +2 station. He told the nurses to go ahead and roll with the pitocin and we'd get this party started. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I've been on the pitocin for about an hour and having regular contractions. Still nothing too strong or painful, so we're just hanging out. I currently have a blood pressure cuff, 2 ID bracelets, 2 fetal monitors strapped to my belly (one for contractions and one to monitor Evan's heart rate) and an IV with saline, antibiotics and pitocin dripping.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-87722212228660889872009-03-18T18:08:00.000-07:002009-03-18T18:20:52.422-07:00So much for that idea<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm still pregnant. VERY pregnant.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I was up early on Tuesday morning (no surprise there). I got ready and woke Todd up about 15 minutes before we needed to leave. He got ready and we took our bags downstairs. My dad had gotten up to meet us and helped me load the car while Todd ate a quick bowl of cereal. We waved goodbye and made the trip in the early morning darkness to the hospital.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Todd dropped me off at the door and I rode the elevator up to the labor and delivery ward. I gave my name and info and she checked me off her list and took me to a room. We walked past the room I delivered Will in and I felt a stab of nostalgia as I saw it was occupied by someone else.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Todd found me a minute later and joined me in the room. I changed into my hospital gown and Todd snapped a few final "belly pictures". I sat on the bed and we waited. And waited.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I got up to pee and our nurse stopped in - she said she'd come back. My doctor stopped by at 8:00 and talked to us for a few minutes and then left again. We were still alone when he came back at 9:00. By this point, I was starting to wonder what the holdup was. We'd been there 2 hours. By this point last time my IV was dripping and my water had been broken.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And that was when my doctor informed me the last words I could even imagine "I hate to be the bearer or bad news. But we had a few nurses call in, we're just too short staffed.". Todd said "you're sending us home, aren't you??" And he repliled "yes". </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Punch me in the gut and take the breath out of me. I wanted to cry. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">The doctor said I could come back the next day (today) and they'd induce me. We ended up agreeing that we'd wait until Friday since that's when he's on call again. I've been with him for over 3 1/2 years and he delivered Will. I really, really want him to deliver Evan, as well. So, I'm throwing myself under the bus and holding out until Friday.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I thought the constant phone calls, texts, emails and facebook notifications BEFORE going to the hospital were bad. But oh my goodness - the number of calls, emails, text messages, voice mails, notifications, etc after giving the news that we WEREN'T having a baby was unbelievable. I had 4 people call me on my phone just between 9 and 10 am. I just wanted to be left alone. I switched it to "silent" and dropped it to the bottom of my purse, not to be touched again until today. Telling the story over and over and over was the last possible thing I wanted to do yesterday. I answered the phone for the first time today about 4 pm.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;">So for everyone that hasn't heard back from me, please don't take it personally. I've reached the "I'm done" point in this pregnancy and rehashing any of it is the last thing I'm interested in doing right now. I'm not calling people until I'm calling with the news of his birth, so please be patient.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">On the upside, my doctor blessed me with a fresh prescription for Ambien. I took one and slept like a ROCK last night for about 9 1/2 hours. It was blessed relief. I'm looking forward to another good night's sleep tonight.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">So, stay tuned as the saga continues. Hopefully Friday we'll actually see the fabulous labor and delivery of Evan Parker come to fruition.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-76718319133939215722009-03-17T03:12:00.000-07:002009-03-17T03:17:07.494-07:00Happy St. Patrick's Day<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I guess I'll never look at today again as just a day for beer and Irish music. I'm having a baby today. It's a little after 6 in the morning and I decided to take a few minutes to get online before needing to get dressed and load the car for the hospital.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Will decided to remind me he's still my #1 priority, at least for a few more minutes by waking up at 5:30 when my alarm was set for 6:20. It took a bit to get him resettled, but now he's sleeping soundly in his bed. I'm actually glad he woke up. I managed to get in one more snuggle and kiss from my first baby boy.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">It seems completely surreal to me that in little more than an hour I'm going to be hooked to an IV and have my water broken to put me into labor. I think it'll seem much more real by lunch time when I'm begging for an epidural. ha ha</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">So, in the meantime, please say a prayer for a safe and healthy delivery of this new little love in my life. I cannot wait to meet him today and find out who has been in there and what he's like. I'm so excited to know we are completing our family today.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-72595153684760890102009-03-14T06:01:00.000-07:002009-03-14T06:06:48.048-07:00A trip to labor and delivery<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">The last few days have been building in excitement and intensity. I've started having some signs of early labor. They resulted in a climax of several hours of contractions on Thursday evening - to the point that I called labor and delivery. I had been contracting every 5-6 minutes for about an hour and a half. This was the first time I've ever had contractions where I felt like I might actually be in labor. I was hopeful they'd at least tell me I was 4-5 cm and could stay to see if I'd progress.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">So I grabbed my purse and away I went to the hospital. Todd stayed home with Will and our packed suitcases, awaiting word from me to call our babysitter and join me at the hospital. I was giddy at the thought that we could be ready to have a baby.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I get to the hospital a few minutes before 11 pm and get hooked to the monitors. In the about 45-50 minutes I was on the monitor, I had 1 contraction. ONE. Sigh. The nurse checked me for dilation and there was nothing new to report since Tuesday.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I changed back out of my gown and into my clothes and headed back home - without a baby.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I swear, he's NEVER coming out. LOL</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-58011263321644740692009-03-10T13:50:00.000-07:002009-03-10T13:57:16.400-07:0038 week appt<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Today I was worried about being in a hurry. My appointment was at 12:45 and I pick Will up at 2:00. Thankfully, the timing worked out and I made it to school at 1:45.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">My blood pressure was still on the low side, which is typical as of late. Everything else looked good.<br /><br />Evan cooperated for his NST and I didn't have to spend an hour on the monitor. Then it was off to my ultrasound. Evan scored another 10/10 on his BPP. It took a while for Brooke to convince him to breathe - he was being a bit uncooperative. I ended up feeling really light headed and she had me move onto my left side to relieve the pressure on my arteries. While giving me a minute to recoup, Brooke switched into 4D so we could see Evan's sweet face. I started to cry. That's the first time I've ever cried during any ultrasound. He was just so sweet and fat. I can't wait to kiss his fat little cheeks.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">So, she finished up the ultrasound and pronounced him to be 8 lbs 5 oz. Exactly what she estimated his big brother to weigh the day before he was born. Hmm..........</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Then it was in to see the doctor. I was finally going to get an internal. I told him I was hopeful he'd tell me I was 3-4 cm dilated. He checked and then had a huge grin on his face. He said "yep, you're 3". WOO HOO!! Even his nurse laughed with excitement.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Then we went into his office to schedule my induction officially. He checked his schedule and declared Monday to be a madhouse, so we booked Tuesday morning at 7 am. So, unless he decides to dislodge himself between now and then, Evan will be a St. Patrick's Day baby. Which was actually a secret hope of mine. :) Although I'm still holding out that he'll come before next Tuesday.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-11597189375114565062009-03-09T22:45:00.000-07:002009-03-09T22:58:03.230-07:00Less than a week to go<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Well, it's officially Tuesday the 10th - so we're at a week or less. A week from right now I'll be in the hospital, holding our sweet boy in my arms. I'm overjoyed and scared to death all at the same time. I can't wait to see his face and to finally meet him - to memorize every detail of his face, to count his fingers and his toes. To learn the smell of him. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">On a slightly lighter note - I'm just looking forward to him getting out of my belly. The combination of a nearly 9 lb baby (we'll find out how big he's gotten tomorrow) and a lot of amniotic fluid leads to being VERY uncomfortable. Not only is he large, but because of all the extra fluid, he still has a lot of room to move. And a very large baby packs quite a punch. And kick. And elbow. His movements are unbelievable and they hurt. A lot. I'm looking forward to him punching someone else for a little while.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-30233686668655598012009-03-08T08:42:00.000-07:002009-03-08T08:49:49.405-07:00Babyproofing<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm borrowing a page out of a light book I'm reading called "The Diaper Diaries". It's too funny not to post.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Babyproofing</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">The widely accepted concept of babyproofing is all wrong. The goal should be to protect the HOUSE from the BABY, not vice versa. Here's what may happen if you don't protect your house:</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">1. Baby will take graham cracker and jam it into DVD player, thus rendering DVD player unusable.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">2. Baby will flush all magnetic alphabet letters other than Q, Z, V and J down the toilet, making it impossible to spell anything meaningful as well as causing the toilet to overflow.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">3. Baby will stuff cat into hapmper where freaked-out kitty will throw up on fine washables.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">4. Baby will fill tub with water and drop the following items to see if they float: your husband's 1896 pocket watch (will not float), photos of your grandmother as a baby (will float initially), your BlackBerry (nope), one of your diamond earrings (uh-uh), and a paper cup (yes!).</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">5. Baby will play with TV remote, resulting in the selction of 47 Pay-Per-View movies.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">6. Baby will take your nine bottles of perfume, pour them into your husband's cowboy hat from his boyhood in Montana, and then dump it all into your sweater drawer.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">7. Baby will remove diaper in front of fridge, then proceed to poop in a saucepan, on the leather recliner and under your authentic oriental rug. Where it will remain undiscovered for 3 days.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">8. Baby will take your car keys and scratch a mark on the antique walnut coffee table before tossing them in air, after which they'll land in the garbage disposal.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">9. Baby will tear pages out of book of Impressionist Art and use vaseline from diaper bag to stick them to living room wall.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-16003059842391763542009-03-08T06:56:00.000-07:002009-03-08T07:03:53.370-07:00He's becoming so independent<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Last night we ate dinner a bit late - it was 7:00 before Todd came in from working on his car and we all sat down to dinner together.<br /><br />Will was obviously starved by then. In the length of time it took me to prepare Todd's plate and mine, Will consumed almost his entire dinner and was asking for more. So, I stopped and refilled his plate - more bbq chicken, corn, baked beans. I sliced a couple more strawberries for him and also microwaved some leftover green beans and threw them on his plate. He ate ALL of this food, too.<br /><br />He's excused to go watch Diego while Todd and I finish eating. Afterwards, Todd took the car for a test drive to confirm that the brakes were finished and said that he'd be back when Diego went off and he and Will would take a shower together and he'd get him in bed for me.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Will knows he gets a snack after dinner if he eats really well. I'll usually let him have a popsicle or ice cream if he ate REALLY well. He actually asked for a banana (aka a bana) and he ate all of that, too.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Diego went off about 3 minutes before Todd returned home. In that length of time, Will announced "I'm ready to go to bed now" and headed upstairs. I helped him brush his teeth and he got into bed on his own. He was just about asleep when Todd got home at 8:02. Todd was so disappointed because he was looking forward to spending 15 minutes with Will before bed and he couldn't talk Will into getting out of bed and taking a shower.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">My sweet boy is growing up. Eating great dinners (he's a good eater, anyway), choosing healthy snacks and putting himself to bed at 8:00.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I love that little boy.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-61261590927117731682009-03-08T06:51:00.000-07:002009-03-08T06:56:29.574-07:00This week's Will-ism<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Will said a few things this week that cracked me up - let me see what I can remember.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">The other night he and I were taking a bath together. Todd was flying and most evenings that Todd's at work and I'm on bath duty, I cheat and we get in the tub together. I don't do too well bending over the tub to bathe him.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">So, Will looks at my huge belly sitting between us. And here's the conversation that follows:</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Will: Mommy, my want baby brother Evan to come out of your tummy.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: He's going to, buddy. And really soon, too.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Will: I want him to come out so I can go back in your tummy.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: (gulp) Well, you're too big to go back in my tummy buddy. You'd never fit.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Will: My will become a baby again and get really small and fit back in your tummy.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: Okay, but I want to warn you - it's really, really dark in there. There's no light in my tummy at all. Evan is sitting in there in the dark, all by himself.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Will: (who hates the dark these days) It's dark in there?</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: Yes, very dark. Evan can't see ANYthing in there at all.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Will: Mommy, are there bats in your tummy????</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">It's a good thing we were already in the bathtub, otherwise I would have peed in my pants.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-26387386343412054732009-03-08T06:48:00.000-07:002009-03-08T06:51:07.906-07:00The compulsion to nest is overwhelming<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I spent hours and hours compulsively cleaning everything yesterday. I couldn't stop myself and just sit down to rest. And it did nothing to put me into labor - just beat the tar out of me. Here's what I accomplished yesterday:<br /><br />Helped Todd bleed the brakes on his car<br />Sweep kitchen<br />Load, run, unload, reload dishwasher<br />Clean fronts of all kitchen appliances<br />Scrub down kitchen sink and all countertops, walls and cabinets<br />Cooked dinner<br />Cleaned powder room floor<br />Cleaned Will's potty chair<br />Scrubbed powder room toilet<br />Wiped down and polished sink in powder room<br />Cleaned mirrors and glass - inside and out<br />Vacuumed the whole house<br />Washed and put away 2 loads of clothes<br />Washed and changed sheets on our bed<br />Scrubbed toilet and both sinks, countertop and mirror in Will's bathroom<br />Scrubbed toilet, both sinks, countertop and mirror in our bathroom<br />Cleaned up entire play room and all the mess in Will's bedroom, too.<br />Straightened up guest room<br /><br />As of yet to be accomplished today:<br /><br />Re-sweep and mop kitchen floors - must restrain myself from getting the scrub brush out and getting on my knees to scrub it<br />Sweep and mop wood floors<br />Dust office, dining room, entertainment center and our bedroom furniture<br />Clean our bedroom mirror</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Dust the hallway railing - esp. the part on the floor<br />Wash my car (really??? This is getting really compulsive if I actually wash my own car, too)</span></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Wondering if I can restrain myself from sanding the drywall mud in the bathroom. Think Todd would care if I started priming and painting in there myself? Yeah, probably.<br /></div></span>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-91757369104056668722009-03-08T06:37:00.000-07:002009-03-08T06:48:38.034-07:0038 weeks today<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">There's not much to say except that I'm miserable.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">The Ambien is all gone. I didn't sleep more than 30 minutes last night and it was awful.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">My whole body hurts like I've been beaten with a baseball bat.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Sigh.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">This stubborn little devil isn't going to budge until the 16th. And he's going to do that to torture me on purpose. He's going to be nearly 10 lbs just to spite me. LOL</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-31425553688467653342009-03-05T10:36:00.000-08:002009-03-05T10:40:21.774-08:00Final details<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">We're coming down to the wire. I'm working on getting together the last few things to be ready. Today I bought a nursing cami (wanted to buy a bra, too, but no luck) and baby Tylenol. I didn't have any baby meds in the house. I bought thank you notes</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I picked up snacks to pack for Todd for the hospital - lucky devil gets to eat while I'm in labor.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm charging my iPod and loading a few new things on it to keep me entertained while in the hospital.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">My bag is mostly packed - I'll just need to throw in my toiletries when it's time to go. My pj's, slippers and robe are already in there.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">Now we just wait. And wait. And wait.</span></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5655759375201997020.post-7255637870813049632009-03-04T19:38:00.000-08:002009-03-04T19:39:23.530-08:00And just one more picture<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;">She's mine - I just can't for it to come in. And for the weather to improve. Finally, my OWN wake board. Bring it on, baby. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbWp9leXJl0rPI2ztvWcV05HrYOad1u2WAdfzQj8iDV9sjIFAnN2fYHXqnIuhn6sXmtMw8bmAHzGyDeKfPkfN6m2TNxDLnFL0QkY2ldbjzxbxXm9uIluoa8TG4bJP1K3r_k8ITDkiggRm/s1600-h/boards_luna137.jpg"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309543037605436546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 166px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbWp9leXJl0rPI2ztvWcV05HrYOad1u2WAdfzQj8iDV9sjIFAnN2fYHXqnIuhn6sXmtMw8bmAHzGyDeKfPkfN6m2TNxDLnFL0QkY2ldbjzxbxXm9uIluoa8TG4bJP1K3r_k8ITDkiggRm/s320/boards_luna137.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /></div>Michaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17152634056184258899noreply@blogger.com0