<?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-2999060712090658494</id><updated>2011-07-28T16:09:55.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My life with twins</title><subtitle type='html'>This blog is intended to be about my life, but mainly it will probably contain stories about my twins.  They were born on March 2nd, 2007.  My life changed for the better when they were born and it's been a wonderful, yet crazy ride!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-6016878510794140228</id><published>2009-06-15T11:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T11:25:30.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to remember.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;When we were recently driving in the car and Sabrina told us she was going to &amp;quot;play mama&amp;quot;.&amp;#160; She then instructed Sammy to do a slew of things, including telling him to get in time out.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;What's with this girl and wanting to put things/people in time out?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;When I was out of the house running errands and Jason told me that Sabrina was following Sammy around, trying to feed him.....playing &amp;quot;mama&amp;quot;.&amp;#160; Blowing on the fork and everything, telling him it is too hot.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Simply precious.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I want to remember these things........&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a title="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3345/3509465627_5ab51b97f8.jpg" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3345/3509465627_5ab51b97f8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img height="365" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3345/3509465627_5ab51b97f8.jpg" width="458" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-6016878510794140228?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6016878510794140228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=6016878510794140228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6016878510794140228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6016878510794140228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-want-to-remember.html' title='I want to remember.....'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3345/3509465627_5ab51b97f8_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-192150998298073195</id><published>2009-06-07T19:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T19:31:29.692-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Has it been?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;That long?&amp;#160; I see the last time I blogged (published blog, that is) was in January.&amp;#160; And now looking back, I remember why.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;I feel like I pretty much skipped over January and February and landed somewhere in the middle of March.&amp;#160; Sometime after my grandmother had a heart attack and open heart surgery.&amp;#160; Sometime after I was so scared of losing another person in my life.&amp;#160; Sometime after my babies--yes--BABIES turned two years old when I wasn't looking and had to recognize it when planning their birthday party.&amp;#160; And sometime between January and March that one of my children became potty trained.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;So here I am, at the beginning of June with a thankfully healthy grandmother who is as frisky as ever and two two year olds that are as frisky as ever too.&amp;#160; Oh, and caught the chicken pox too.&amp;#160; Yeah, throw that in there.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;Of course other stuff happened in life because we all know that even if I stop blogging, my blogging material doesn't go away.&amp;#160; And I couldn't even write down everything in an interesting enough way that anyone would ever want to read it.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;So here are some milestones:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;Sammy finally found all of his vocabulary sometime before he turned two.&amp;#160; He is a repeating machine and his voice is simply enchanting.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;Little Miss (aka Sabrina) is sassier than ever.&amp;#160; She continuously puts Sammy into time-outs (and other toys and objects) as well if she feel she has been wronged.&amp;#160; She will also put herself into time-out.....but carry out the deed knowing she will go into time-out.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;Sammy knows how to climb out of his crib.&amp;#160; But only did it once.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;Sabrina is pretty much fully potty trained--we are working on naps and night time.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;Oh! And Sabrina is finally starting to get her teeth in.&amp;#160; Yeah, I know she is two.&amp;#160; But seriously, the girl (until recently) had like four teeth.&amp;#160; Certainly didn't stop her from eating though.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;Usually when I blog it is because something strikes me to do so.&amp;#160; Today I was struck.&amp;#160; I wanted to write about it and remember it.&amp;#160; I've been a tad stressed out lately and this sort of thing helps ground me and remind me what life is truly about.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;Both the twins usually love to be sang to.&amp;#160; It could be any song really, but they have their favorites.&amp;#160; For awhile, the theme song to &amp;quot;Jay-Jay the Jet Plane&amp;quot; was their favorite although I really don't know why.&amp;#160; But there have been others too, like &amp;quot;Row Row Row Your Boat&amp;quot; that sometimes they want to hear over and over again.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;When Sammy is in a certain state of mind, only that one song will do that he wants to hear.&amp;#160; But he asks in the sweetest, sweetest way.&amp;#160; His main song lately is the Thomas the Train theme song.&amp;#160; Do not get me started on his Thomas obsession, for I did not foster it, but it is there nonetheless.&amp;#160; So if I start singing Jay-Jay, he says, &amp;quot;No Jay-Jay, how about Thomas?&amp;quot;&amp;#160; And it begins a little game we play.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;I will literally start singing every song and every time I do he quietly says, &amp;quot;No Twinkle, how about Thomas?&amp;quot;&amp;#160; And not only does he do it in the sweetest way, but he tilts his head to one side as if only knowing how cute he can possibly be.&amp;#160; He knows we are playing a game and he likes it.&amp;#160; But his face also lights up when I beginning singing his song of choice.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;So today while playing the game I wanted to remember that there was a time my singing (and I don't sing well) put a smile on my son's face.&amp;#160; He smiles and stares intently at me as I finish and helps me words along the way.&amp;#160; I want to remember that.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;I want to remember that when Sabrina wants to give me Eskimo kisses she will hold my face tight and rub noses.&amp;#160; And almost always, she will tell me she loves me after a kiss.&amp;#160; I want to remember that. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS"&gt;I'd rather forget all the stress and drama.&amp;#160; I know it comes with life, but sometimes, it's just overrated. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/Six3-1kQebI/AAAAAAAAAJc/dUbyeFsddEo/s1600-h/2366copy%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="244" alt="2366copy" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/Six3_LIZh_I/AAAAAAAAAJg/zNS9peTT8-o/2366copy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="243" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/Six3_Tj01BI/AAAAAAAAAJk/rX05iGb8kjs/s1600-h/IMG_8892%20copy2%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="244" alt="IMG_8892 copy2" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/Six3_rBv_OI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vm5wbpGdHIU/IMG_8892%20copy2_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/Six4ACGi10I/AAAAAAAAAJs/QXpYi4PLKPw/s1600-h/9000bw%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="185" alt="9000bw" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/Six4ADzhA6I/AAAAAAAAAJw/ViO6U9Wnvq8/9000bw_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-192150998298073195?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/192150998298073195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=192150998298073195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/192150998298073195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/192150998298073195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2009/06/has-it-been.html' title='Has it been?'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://lh6.ggpht.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/Six3_LIZh_I/AAAAAAAAAJg/zNS9peTT8-o/s72-c/2366copy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-6063754906902757890</id><published>2009-01-19T20:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T20:40:44.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A perfect day</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I would like to think that we have darn near perfect days here.....days when I really think that life can't get any better.&amp;#160; Days that I can't imagine do anything else than playing with my toddlers all day long.&amp;#160; And days that I never want them to grow up.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But I say &amp;quot;darn near perfect&amp;quot; because sometimes daddy isn't here with us during the week.&amp;#160; Our perfect days are for the weekend, and this past one was no exception.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;At the end of last week we had some severe cold weather here in Michigan, and so, we (meaning the twins and I) did not venture out of the house.&amp;#160; We didn't really need to and if it's anything under zero degrees out I'm not in a real big hurry to go anywhere outside.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But Saturday was a tad, just a tad bit better.&amp;#160; So we ventured out as a family......to the mall!&amp;#160; Yes, the mall.&amp;#160; I had to exchange some shoes for Sammy, we had errands to run, etc.&amp;#160; But there was a play area at the mall which Sam and Sabrina enjoyed for a good 45 minutes.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;After they had seriously burned off some energy they were treated to a special cookie and enjoyed the rest of the walk around the mall in their stroller.&amp;#160; On our way home we decided that sushi sounded good (for us, not them), but they were also treated to a fully cooked Chinese meal.&amp;#160; We ate take-out dinner together as a family and the twins sampled our chopsticks.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="390" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3134/3212030260_cda0c83747.jpg" width="468" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="433" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3444/3212030510_dd51ec627b.jpg" width="467" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Afterwards, we just enjoyed the rest of the day.....playing and reading.....randomly watching some kids television together.....and just being &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;together&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, as a family.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Sounds pretty perfect to me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And it was.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-6063754906902757890?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6063754906902757890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=6063754906902757890' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6063754906902757890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6063754906902757890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/perfect-day.html' title='A perfect day'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3134/3212030260_cda0c83747_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-8117988741249657403</id><published>2008-12-29T12:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T12:00:50.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a difference a year can make....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;2006:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3082/3148488820_f10f4fa50b.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;2007:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="324" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2344/2094117231_bcc815cc00.jpg" width="451" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;2008:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="306" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3189/3074517695_013242119c.jpg" width="459" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Sigh.&lt;a title="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2344/2094117231_bcc815cc00.jpg" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2344/2094117231_bcc815cc00.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-8117988741249657403?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/8117988741249657403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=8117988741249657403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/8117988741249657403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/8117988741249657403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-difference-year-can-make.html' title='What a difference a year can make....'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3082/3148488820_f10f4fa50b_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-1741918006352150716</id><published>2008-12-29T11:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T11:31:49.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'>They've taken over......</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It has been sooooo long since I last blogged!&amp;#160; I have several things to catch up on, but too much for one entry. Every day either Sam and Sabrina do something that is blog worthy or camera worthy, but the camera usually wins.&amp;#160; After they are in bed, I'm usually too tired to blog.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But I have a spare moment and the motivation to write, so here it is!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The title &amp;quot;they've taken over&amp;quot; stands for the twins taking over the house....finally....and all of it.&amp;#160; You see, I'm a bit of a paranoid person and I prefer to have them within my eye distance almost all the time.&amp;#160; I'm a worrier and a bit of a control freak at times.&amp;#160; So I do what those people do best--set up gates and baby proof carefully, making sure that each little thing is safe....control what I can (for lack of a better word!)&amp;#160; When the twins were little babies, we stayed in the family room most of the day--unless we ventured outside or to the park.&amp;#160; Eventually, they took over the entire family room and kitchen--we thought they needed more space.&amp;#160; Then they got an extra room upstairs next to their nursery as added space.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A couple of weeks ago we sold our dining room set because we didn't love it anymore and we wanted more &amp;quot;safe&amp;quot; room for them to roam.&amp;#160; And now, the formal living room is opened up and basically the only things off limits in the entire house are the stairs (unless assisted) and the bathrooms (unless for potty).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So yes, they've officially taken over.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And I like it.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I like that everything is &amp;quot;safe&amp;quot;, except for trips and falls.&amp;#160; I like that I can throw a load of clothes in the washer and know that they are okay.&amp;#160; I like that I've grown as a mommy to let them have some independence in their own home.&amp;#160; And goodness knows, they have earned it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Gone are the days of putting an infant in one spot and knowing that they pretty much won't move.&amp;#160; Instead, the days of little feet running, laughter, and twin talk is here.&amp;#160;&amp;#160; The days of REAL words and conversations is here to stay as well.&amp;#160; And I know it will only get better.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I'll make a better effort to get some of our wonderful moments written more often.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Because they are so very worth it............&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3166/3085303162_76ffbe9662.jpg" width="444" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="291" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3058/3097064430_5bff286bbe.jpg" width="436" /&gt; &lt;img height="354" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3239/3118830565_7bb9b3528e.jpg" width="444" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-1741918006352150716?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1741918006352150716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=1741918006352150716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1741918006352150716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1741918006352150716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/12/they-taken-over.html' title='They&amp;#39;ve taken over......'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3166/3085303162_76ffbe9662_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-5015357703630615385</id><published>2008-10-12T07:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T07:07:48.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving on up</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;To boosters, that is.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The day has come for this family that the high chairs are out of the kitchen!&amp;#160; To be quite honest, they have been driving me crazy for a long time.&amp;#160; Last winter I even stripped the cloth covers off of them because they got messy too quick.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Life + me without high chairs = grand!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;They served their purpose, but I think it was time.&amp;#160; And the twins would agree.&amp;#160; As soon as they seen the new boosters came out, all they wanted to do was explore them and sit in them--just like big kids.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Big kids?&amp;#160; Where have my babies gone?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I know this is only the beginning.&amp;#160; First it was the infant car seats, then the bouncy seats, exersaucers, and swings.&amp;#160; The bottles hurt the most.&amp;#160; Even though I jumped for joy at the thought of moving the high chairs out of the kitchen, I imagine I will be a wreck when the day comes for toddler beds.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;They really do grow up way too fast.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Really.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="233" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3167/2933772761_e6bb129dde.jpg" width="419" /&gt;&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;img height="431" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3147/2933775319_8da9becafb.jpg" width="417" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="284" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3248/2933774411_4400eb2d4c.jpg" width="423" /&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="319" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3271/2933776781_0cdd62c9c3.jpg" width="415" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-5015357703630615385?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5015357703630615385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=5015357703630615385' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5015357703630615385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5015357703630615385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/10/moving-on-up.html' title='Moving on up'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3167/2933772761_e6bb129dde_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-1327976158613688144</id><published>2008-09-27T17:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T17:53:57.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A family kiss</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Yesterday, as Jason and I were putting the twins to bed, we followed our nightly routine as normal.&amp;#160; This:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We read several books.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We sing songs.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We clean up.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We put the twins to bed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;As we are getting them in their cribs we always exchange kisses.&amp;#160; Sabrina kisses dada.&amp;#160; Sabrina kisses Sammy.&amp;#160; Sabrina kisses me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Sammy does the same thing.&amp;#160; He usually starts with me, then almost knocks heads with Sabrina while trying to give her a kiss.&amp;#160; Then he teases dada with his kisses.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Last night, I declared, &amp;quot;four-way kiss!&amp;quot;&amp;#160; We all leaned in to give smooches and the twins burst out with laughter.&amp;#160; They thought it was the funniest thing.&amp;#160; We repeated several times until they were content with the four- way kiss.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It was, without a doubt, the perfect family moment. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A family kiss.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-1327976158613688144?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1327976158613688144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=1327976158613688144' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1327976158613688144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1327976158613688144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/09/family-kiss.html' title='A family kiss'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-4926538895867195097</id><published>2008-09-12T09:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T09:51:50.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love You Forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Another favorite nighttime read.&amp;#160; The twins, especially Sammy, adore this book to pieces.&amp;#160; Even when he was much younger--eight or nine months old he would hear me read this book and be mesmerized.&amp;#160; Here we are ten months later and it is still no different.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Sabrina likes this one too, but Sammy will choose between this one and two others most of the time.&amp;#160; He definitely has his favorites.&amp;#160; He brings it to me, knowing that I will read it, using the same tone and inflection that I used when I read it to him when he was a tiny baby.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I just love this story.&amp;#160; Some people might find it odd, but it is truly just the telling of a mother's love for her son.&amp;#160; Only a mother knows that love.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But I too, know the love I have for my daughter.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I'll love you forever&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I'll like you for always&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;As long as I'm living&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My baby you'll be......&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Yes, though my babies are growing up and getting bigger, they will always still be my babies, no matter when they are eighteen months old, or eighteen years old.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Sigh.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 0px 5px" height="330" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3107/2850505221_4bc37d3998.jpg" width="428" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="303" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3052/2850505881_daf7ea3c22.jpg" width="428" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="450" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3147/2851336682_0785d5799c.jpg" width="433" align="left" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-4926538895867195097?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/4926538895867195097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=4926538895867195097' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/4926538895867195097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/4926538895867195097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-you-forever.html' title='Love You Forever'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3107/2850505221_4bc37d3998_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-7839519782769758916</id><published>2008-09-05T21:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T21:07:25.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The updates</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Well, the twins officially turned eighteen months this past Tuesday.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Eighteen months.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Wow, how time flies by.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This past summer, I have watched my son come out of his shell.&amp;#160; He was never shy, per se, but compared to Sabrina he sometimes seemed a little quieter and a little gentler.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;No more.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Hello world, my name is Sammy and I will not take crap from my sister anymore!&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;He steals toys back now, BITES (we're working on this on), and asserts his wants.&amp;#160; Talking wise he has said more words, but still prefers his signs to words.&amp;#160; And for that, I at least knows that he understands me.&amp;#160; He nods and shakes his head with the appropriate questions, signals &amp;quot;all done&amp;quot; ALL THE TIME for things he wants out of--even a diaper change!&amp;#160; So even though he might not be using as many verbal words as Sabrina, I truly feel that he is doing just fine.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;He loves to bring me books to read to him, his little people, shape sorters, feeding himself with his fork and spoon, but his most favorite thing to do is play with his cars.&amp;#160; He says it like this, &amp;quot;kers&amp;quot;.&amp;#160; Too cute.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Sabrina, on the other hand, has had the language explosion I have heard other people talk about.&amp;#160; She repeats almost everything I ask her to repeat, can give me sounds for many animals, some letter sounds, and an extended vocabulary of her own.&amp;#160; Her favorite words are &amp;quot;No!&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;Mine!&amp;quot;&amp;#160; Okay, so she may have learned the &amp;quot;no&amp;quot; from me, but I most certainly did not teach her &amp;quot;mine&amp;quot;.&amp;#160; That is anyone's guess.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It's funny what they pick up though.&amp;#160; When she started saying milk awhile back, she said it like this, &amp;quot;mmmmmmmmmmmilk&amp;quot;, with the emphasis on the &amp;quot;m&amp;quot; sound.&amp;#160; We didn't teach her that, it was something she did on her own.&amp;#160; And when Sammy started saying milk, he did exactly the same thing.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But where Sabrina has got the language lead, my boy has lead in other ways.&amp;#160; In social situations he gets right in.&amp;#160; In play areas he runs in with no fear.&amp;#160; We were at a new indoor play area this week and you have to climb up through this netting to go down a slide.&amp;#160; At first he was afraid but after I showed him how to do it there was no stopping him, he must have went up and down by himself about ten times.&amp;#160; He is the one that now has no fear.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I sat there, that day in the play area and just watched them both in amazement. I love just watching them sometimes.....figuring out a puzzle, a way to climb up something, the way they interact with each other.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It's truly amazing.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Truly.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3059/2832419270_7f9a1f2a84.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3167/2831587231_f4b3310cbf.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3106/2832422942_9002de1def.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-7839519782769758916?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7839519782769758916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=7839519782769758916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/7839519782769758916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/7839519782769758916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/09/updates.html' title='The updates'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3059/2832419270_7f9a1f2a84_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-6565172428527940310</id><published>2008-09-05T20:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T20:27:30.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How do you do it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;We had some changes in our schedule over here this week.&amp;#160; Jason was finally home for ONE WHOLE WEEK!&amp;#160; He was working on getting a varied schedule so every fourth week he would be home for ten days rather than three.&amp;#160; It looks like it's working out to be that way.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;More so than lately, people have been asking how it has been with him traveling.&amp;#160; They ask me how I do it?&amp;#160; Well, to be honest, I have my good and bad days.&amp;#160; But more often than not, the days are good.&amp;#160; Why?&amp;#160; I think a lot of it has to do with our personal relationship with each other and our commitment.&amp;#160; And the fact that it happened at the right time in our marriage.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I guess what I am meaning to say is that we communicate very well with each other, even when he is five states away.&amp;#160; We talk, IM, email, several times a day.&amp;#160; It's like he is just at &amp;quot;work&amp;quot; for the day rather than him being far away.&amp;#160; The only difference is I am alone with the babies at night.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;When I say that it happened at the right time in our marriage, I really mean it.&amp;#160; He couldn't have done this when the babies were two weeks old or even two months old, or at other times during our marriage.&amp;#160; This was the right time.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This was also, I feel, the right time for him to pursue his biggest dream career wise.&amp;#160; And he has.&amp;#160; He has come SO far in his career in the past couple of years and I couldn't be prouder of him.&amp;#160; I don't mind holding down the fort here because I am not really doing it alone.&amp;#160; Even with distance between us during the week, we are together on every decision made for this family.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And this won't be forever--far from it.&amp;#160; It's merely a stepping stone.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Keep on stepping baby.&amp;#160; You're doing your family proud.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We love you.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-6565172428527940310?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6565172428527940310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=6565172428527940310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6565172428527940310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6565172428527940310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/09/how-do-you-do-it.html' title='How do you do it?'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-5590368977605372197</id><published>2008-08-26T19:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T19:24:04.318-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes, ya just got to get messy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt; It's true.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I really don't mind when my kids get messy, as long as they are having a good time.&amp;#160; Don't get the wrong idea--my children are CLEAN, but we don't shy away from activities because there might be a little mess involved.&amp;#160; We eat spaghetti, we go to a playground with sand, they've played in MUD, and today we had our first experience with.....&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Finger painting.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;With pudding, of course.&amp;#160; Except now in the future I will have to discourage them from actually eating the paint.&amp;#160; We still have that issue with crayons.....sometimes they'll sneak one in their mouth if I dare turn away.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyways, they had a grand old time making a mess.&amp;#160; I snapped some pictures and we just laughed and laughed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It's fun to be messy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But it's nice to clean up too.&amp;#160; :)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3162/2802006418_2e22932535.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3113/2801161565_0935afa221.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3129/2802010264_7b8f3a68ea.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3092/2801160429_b0399a8184.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3068/2801165733_b5a17d67c0.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3160/2802011622_6cefd2b5be.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-5590368977605372197?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5590368977605372197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=5590368977605372197' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5590368977605372197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5590368977605372197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/08/sometimes-ya-just-got-to-get-messy.html' title='Sometimes, ya just got to get messy.'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3162/2802006418_2e22932535_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-1831517235140623515</id><published>2008-08-22T13:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T13:10:58.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, my heart.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My heart jumped into my throat last night.&amp;#160; Perhaps this can be best summed about by letters I have wrote to my dear, precious, darling, children.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Dear Sammy,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Honey, as much as I love you, I must implore you to never repeat what you did last night.&amp;#160; You nearly gave mommy a heart attack, which I can explain what that is when you are old enough.&amp;#160; Please, don't ever again stick your hand into the crack of the refrigerator door while I have it open.&amp;#160; Come around like you normally do and try to steal bottles of salad dressing and ketchup.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Why, you must wonder, does mommy ask you not to do such a thing?&amp;#160; Because your tiny hand could be squished in that door my darling.&amp;#160; You have pointed out another simple task that I do every single day can be dangerous to you.&amp;#160; Thank goodness I saw you before I shut the door all the way.&amp;#160; Thank you for keeping me aware.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Your wrist and hand is fine, thank goodness.&amp;#160; I know you want to be adventurous when it comes to the fridge, but please, let's not repeat this incident.&amp;#160; I like your hand and wrist just the way they are.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Love,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Mama&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Dear Sabrina,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;While I am tending to your brother in the midst of an emergency, try not to become enthused with the air vent that leads to the family room.&amp;#160; It's not really a fun toy, trust me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;You didn't even realize it, but while playing near it, you got your foot too close and got a scratch.&amp;#160; Again, mommy's heart jumped into her throat.&amp;#160; Luckily, a Band-Aid sufficed.&amp;#160; I know you think it is fun to scare mommy so much, but really, I can only handle one &amp;quot;almost bad accident&amp;quot; at a time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Or at least give me five minutes to recover.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;In any event, a new air vent has already been purchased to protect you from further vent investigating.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Love,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Mama&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Oh yeah, it was a fun Thursday night evening at my house.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Thank goodness Dada is now home.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-1831517235140623515?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1831517235140623515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=1831517235140623515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1831517235140623515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1831517235140623515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-my-heart.html' title='Oh, my heart.'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-2788288621345632148</id><published>2008-08-14T12:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T13:01:21.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been tagged!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Thanks Amy!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Rules Once Tagged:    &lt;br /&gt;1) Link to the person who tagged you.     &lt;br /&gt;2) Post the rules on your blog (copy and paste 1-6).     &lt;br /&gt;3) Write 6 random things about yourself (see below).     &lt;br /&gt;4) Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them.     &lt;br /&gt;5) Let each person know they have been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.     &lt;br /&gt;6) Let the tagger (who tagged you) know when your post is up.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;1.&amp;#160; I am weird about the sheets on my bed.&amp;#160; I DO NOT like my feet touching the bare mattress.&amp;#160; It's like nails on a chalkboard for me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;2.&amp;#160; I still check on the babies before going to bed at night.&amp;#160; I tip toe in, lay my hand gently on their back.&amp;#160; I whisper, &amp;quot;I love you&amp;quot;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;3.&amp;#160; I am frustrated with running right now, but I will keep at it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;4.&amp;#160; I prefer my closet insanely organized.&amp;#160; Clothes all the same way on the hangers, colors coordinated, etc.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;5.&amp;#160; Despite my last statement, my whole house seems to have been a wreck lately.&amp;#160; So I'm working on not being so anal about things that really truly do not matter.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;6. I despise fish sticks.&amp;#160; As a child I ate them and got horribly sick.&amp;#160; If someone even mentions a fish stick to me I feel myself getting ill.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Okay, you're it!&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;1.&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;amp;friendID=16759290"&gt;Karin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;2.&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://devoecreative.blogspot.com/"&gt;DeVoe Photography&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;3.&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&amp;amp;friendID=63679747&amp;amp;blogID=420028329&amp;amp;Mytoken=2CB25408-09AA-4CC5-999B60200D0327D632722488"&gt;Robyn&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;4.&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;amp;friendID=19620315"&gt;Rick&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;5.&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://getcrunchy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sarah&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;6.&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://mamanatalie.blogspot.com/"&gt;Natalie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-2788288621345632148?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2788288621345632148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=2788288621345632148' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2788288621345632148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2788288621345632148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-been-tagged.html' title='I&amp;#39;ve been tagged!'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-4374577952762638156</id><published>2008-08-07T20:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T20:16:36.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mumma!  Mumma!  Mumma!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" size="2"&gt; &amp;quot;Yes, Sabrina?&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" size="2"&gt;She puts her arms up.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" size="2"&gt;I pick her up.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" size="2"&gt;She is content.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" size="2"&gt;This is the game we play on a daily basis and I love it, though I won't tell Sabrina that.&amp;#160; She could be quite content playing in the family room and if I sneak away to get some coffee, prep a meal, or check an email, she knows.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" size="2"&gt;She comes running at full force and stops about 1/2 inch away from my legs and will promptly yell at me.&amp;#160; &amp;quot;Mumma!&amp;#160; Mumma!&amp;quot;&amp;#160; I spell it that way because she doesn't really say &amp;quot;Mama&amp;quot;, but it sounds like &amp;quot;mum-ah&amp;quot;.&amp;#160; Which is the sweetest sound to my ears.&amp;#160; That and Sammy's high pitched squeal when he is in a really good mood.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" size="2"&gt;&amp;quot;Borrowing&amp;quot; from Van Morrison....&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" size="2"&gt;These are the days of the endless summer     &lt;br /&gt;These are the days, the time is now      &lt;br /&gt;There is no past, there's only future      &lt;br /&gt;There's only here, there's only now&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Trebuchet MS" size="2"&gt;Ah yes, these are the days.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3119/2742496311_91cbf2125a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img height="349" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3222/2720530655_b13537a504.jpg" width="508" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3242/2742487709_31b0c04244.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-4374577952762638156?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/4374577952762638156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=4374577952762638156' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/4374577952762638156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/4374577952762638156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/08/mumma-mumma-mumma.html' title='Mumma!  Mumma!  Mumma!'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3119/2742496311_91cbf2125a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-6235612998538682056</id><published>2008-07-29T20:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T20:50:43.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love you, stinky face</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Where have my babies gone?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;In just a few short days, they will be seventeen months old.&amp;#160; SEVENTEEN MONTHS!&amp;#160; I still can't get over it.&amp;#160; I remember them when they were SEVEN days old and just precious little blobs that needed everything done for them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="341" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3006/2716056846_0201d9689a.jpg" width="406" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Now they are precious little toddlers.&amp;#160; And while for the most part I still get a hand in their daily affairs, they are truly calling the shots now.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Example: bedtime.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We have established a nice little routine before bedtime. We have a small snack with milk and then I announce &amp;quot;bath time!&amp;quot;.&amp;#160; This is met with excitement and grins as they run to the gate in the kitchen, all the while Sabrina making the sign for &amp;quot;bath&amp;quot; and saying &amp;quot;baaaa&amp;quot;.&amp;#160; Sammy runs around squealing.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Up the stairs.&amp;#160; This is their favorite thing.&amp;#160; I remember when they only just learned crawling the stairs, now it is a race to see who gets to the top first.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;After their bath they get nice and dry while I am soaked from all the splashing.&amp;#160; They cannot bathe without splashing.&amp;#160; Splashing mama is so in right now, didn't you know?&amp;#160; These toddlers say so, so it must be.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But here is my favorite part of the day.&amp;#160; And it's not putting them to sleep.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I love our story time right before bed.&amp;#160; I usually read about two or three books before we sings some songs and they doze off to sleep.&amp;#160; I just love this time.&amp;#160; This is what I envisioned when I looked ahead when they were tiny little babies.&amp;#160; Creating wonderful and simple memories.....and this is one of them.&amp;#160; One day, they'll remember that we had this little nighttime ritual and I hope that they will look upon it with as much fondness as I do.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And I know they'll love it just as much as me.&amp;#160; They both have a &amp;quot;favorite&amp;quot; book right now, &amp;quot;I love you, Stinky Face&amp;quot;, that is a must read at bedtime.&amp;#160; Sammy will hear me start to read it and I automatically have his attention.&amp;#160; He loves this one almost as much as &amp;quot;I'll love you forever&amp;quot;, but we haven't read that in a while because I need a new copy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3045/2715208115_d2072f781a.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Today he just kept bringing it up to me, waiting for me to start reading it.&amp;#160; Sabrina curled up in my lap to turn the pages for me.&amp;#160; Even if it has been one heck of a day with teething and toddler tantrums, moments like this overcome all.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3163/2716021250_27f8a4a824.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A day will come when they won't want me to read them stories, give them kisses on their bellies, or baby them at all.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But that day is still far away.&amp;#160; And so I say, I love you, my stinky faces.......&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3172/2716014098_b0244a979f.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3246/2716018632_8f7e82a642.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-6235612998538682056?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6235612998538682056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=6235612998538682056' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6235612998538682056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6235612998538682056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-love-you-stinky-face.html' title='I love you, stinky face'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3006/2716056846_0201d9689a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-1910363482950466330</id><published>2008-07-29T12:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T12:21:21.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catholic Rant</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Many of you may or may not know that I am Catholic.&amp;#160; I went to twelve years of Catholic school, was married in a Catholic church, and both of my children have been baptized as well.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I won't get into a religious debate on here, but yes, I believe in God and Jesus.&amp;#160; I have those beliefs, but I have some major beef and issues with the Catholic church in general.&amp;#160; I disagree with many things about the church, so I have been &amp;quot;sampling&amp;quot; churches in my area for some better spiritual belief.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;The most aggravating issue I have with the Catholic church is the seemingly always emphasis on money.&amp;#160; Sure, they don't always come out and ask for it (although they don't have a problem with that either), but some things that they charge for that you would think would be free.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Example:&amp;#160; My uncle just passed away.&amp;#160; This was my grandmother's son and she has been taking it very hard.&amp;#160; She went to the church yesterday and picked out all of her special masses for the next couple months or so.&amp;#160; Basically, she gives them the names of people who have passed away and in the &amp;quot;intention&amp;quot; part of the mass, a name is read aloud.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Kind of like this:&amp;#160; &amp;quot;In today's liturgy we remember those who have passed on before us&amp;quot;......and their names are read.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Okay, I say &amp;quot;Great grandma, that's really nice.&amp;quot;&amp;#160; She picked out masses for my mom, my uncle, my grandfather, and my great-aunt (her twin sister).&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Her reply:&amp;#160; &amp;quot;Yeah, and it only cost me 65 dollars.&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Hold the phone here.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I said, &amp;quot;WHAT!?!?&amp;#160; They CHARGE you to have a name read aloud at mass?&amp;#160; They CHARGE you to ask you to think of someone in a special way?&amp;#160; THEY CHARGE YOU?????&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Clearly, they do.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;She wasn't surprised.&amp;#160; I guess they normally charge ten dollars PER NAME, but gave her the five dollar discount.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I guess it's her senior discount, eh?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;This really lit a fire under my a**.&amp;#160; I give to the church that I attend and I have no problem with tithing.&amp;#160; I understand that the church does have bills to pay too and they pay those with the donations they receive.&amp;#160; I GET that.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;What I don't get is charging some to READ a name at mass.&amp;#160; You would think that got wrapped right in with your tithing as a member.&amp;#160; And for the record, my grandmother, who is on a fixed income, goes and GIVES to that church every Sunday and every holy day there is.&amp;#160; That includes the day Immaculate Conception (among other days) for you non-religious readers out that.&amp;#160; She GIVES to them more than she can afford.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Couldn't she get her shout out free of charge?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;If I am wrong here or I'm just not seeing it, someone please let me know.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Perhaps it's just one more thing about this specific church that ticks me off.&amp;#160; Or maybe I am in serious need of a Diet Coke.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Rant over.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-1910363482950466330?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1910363482950466330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=1910363482950466330' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1910363482950466330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1910363482950466330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/07/catholic-rant.html' title='Catholic Rant'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-5133710420864902597</id><published>2008-07-21T21:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T21:28:18.202-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Once upon a time, before I had children.......I loved to go to school.&amp;#160; Of course, being a teacher I truly love to teach, but I used to love learning as well.&amp;#160; In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I often elected to take classes on campus even if an on-line was offered.&amp;#160; That's how much I loved going to school.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;In the summer of 2006, we found out we were pregnant with the twins.&amp;#160; I was nearing half way through my masters program, with hopes of graduating and completing the program within one year.&amp;#160; In the fall I was still working and after a slip down the stairs at work and a blood pressure scare, Jason and I decided together that I would hold off on finishing my masters.&amp;#160; My point being that I have the rest of my life to finish that program, but I have nine months to get these babies good and healthy.&amp;#160; So while I continued working, I let go of one extra stress at the time......&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;It was, in hindsight, probably the best decision I ever made.&amp;#160; For the most part, the pregnancy was relatively healthy, and with about five weeks left to go before their birth, I stopped working as well.&amp;#160; My ankles were the size of telephone polls and I can't believe I ever wanted to wander around a college campus looking like I was twenty months pregnant.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;It was a good decision.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;So for the past sixteen months I have thoroughly enjoyed staying home with the babies.&amp;#160; The days are our own and we do as we see fit.&amp;#160; We go to the park, we visit friends, we chill at home.......and for the past sixteen months I really hadn't given that masters program much of a second thought.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Until recently.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;In Michigan, you have five years to teach with your original, provisional certificate.&amp;#160; At that time, you must renew and most people go with their professional one.&amp;#160; In order to get your professional one, you must have eighteen post grad. credits.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;No problem.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Or so I thought.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I thought I had eighteen--in fact--I would have damn near bet my life on it.&amp;#160; But I only have fifteen.&amp;#160; I have already received an extension for my provisional certificate.....but before I even worried about it anymore, I signed up for an online class so I can just get the darn professional certificate and be done with it.&amp;#160; Are you following all of this?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Really, it doesn't even matter, since I am not working again this year.&amp;#160; But I signed up for the online class and since July 3rd have been regretting almost every second of it.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3093/2691787048_e4a6beaca4.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;It's not that I can't do the work, because I can and I will.&amp;#160; It's not that it's terribly hard, although some of it is confusing.&amp;#160; It is a research class......with lots of terms and information.&amp;#160; Quantitative data versus qualitative data, variables, independent variables, random samples, cluster samples.......etc.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Ugh.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;And even thought I can and will complete all of this, I have just lost my motivation to learn this stuff.&amp;#160; It doesn't excite me anymore.&amp;#160; I'd rather be playing with the babies then responding to a group discussion.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I gotta give up some major props to the mama's who work, go to school, and those super mama's out there that work and go to school.&amp;#160; Because this one little class is beating me over the head.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Off to work on creating a random sample.&amp;#160; Doesn't it sound fun?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3250/2690978143_d590882e19.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Oh, and doesn't that lady on the cover of the book look just a tad too happy about educational research?&amp;#160; ;)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-5133710420864902597?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5133710420864902597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=5133710420864902597' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5133710420864902597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5133710420864902597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/07/ugh.html' title='Ugh'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3093/2691787048_e4a6beaca4_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-1368546998058051294</id><published>2008-07-16T18:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T18:15:52.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kisses</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;This was just too sweet not to post.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;These are the moments that make up my day.....and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3144/2666334182_acb15ede0d.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-1368546998058051294?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1368546998058051294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=1368546998058051294' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1368546998058051294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1368546998058051294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/07/kisses.html' title='Kisses'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3144/2666334182_acb15ede0d_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-2186889265643279740</id><published>2008-07-16T18:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T18:10:56.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stubborn, but sweet</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Sammy is a stubborn boy.&amp;#160; He is patient, but oh so stubborn.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;If he sees something that he wants, he is relentless.&amp;#160; He doesn't throw a fit like my precious daughter, but keeps coming back for his prize.&amp;#160;&amp;#160; He waits and waits and waits, but doesn't forget.&amp;#160; He just waits until he can make a move.&amp;#160; Example:&amp;#160; When I give them a bath, I put the shampoo, baby wash, and big cup thingy that I use to rinse their hair, right outside the tub.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;He is obsessed with the big cup thingy, which I am sure has a real name.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Every time he is in the tub he spies it.&amp;#160; And waits for the exact moment to make his move.&amp;#160; He'll wait until I am shampooing Sabrina or washing her up and try and climb out of the tub.&amp;#160; And he doesn't stop until the big cup thingy is in his possession.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3156/2632922594_e3a81d172c.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;It isn't just the big cup thingy either......if something is on the counter that I swore I moved back far enough, he gets it.&amp;#160; His arms go into super stretch mode and he doesn't stop until he gets what he wants......quiet and diligent, but ever so sneaky.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2148/2539789175_ecca4c9c7e.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Luckily, I fall into a category of &amp;quot;things Sammy wants&amp;quot;, most of the time.&amp;#160; Today, I was trying to make dinner in the kitchen and he just kept following me around, grabbing my legs, until I picked him up.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I looked at him.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;He looked at me.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;He smiled.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;He had gotten his prize.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;And then ever so gently, rested his head upon my shoulder.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Sigh.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3197/2666339890_5de1e74316.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-2186889265643279740?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2186889265643279740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=2186889265643279740' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2186889265643279740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2186889265643279740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/07/stubborn-but-sweet.html' title='Stubborn, but sweet'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3156/2632922594_e3a81d172c_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-5667727853290477293</id><published>2008-06-18T18:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T08:54:39.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fearless</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;My mom always used to tease me about how I was as a baby and child.&amp;#160; Apparently, I was pretty wild.&amp;#160; I got into every situation and had no fear.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;When I was pregnant, we heard the same old story from everyone......everything that Jason and I did to drive our parents crazy would come back to haunt us.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;And so it begins........&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3241/2590865093_0526af1ac8.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3091/2590853401_13b94fb435.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;Climbing on the chair and couch is old hat for my darling daughter.....but this was the first time I had the camera ready.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;This is her new trick:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3020/2591697056_95c1133f23.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3027/2590861313_92ea9516fe.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3255/2590862337_bdb7a61a5f.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;Sigh.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;You know what Jason's mom said about him?&amp;#160; That he was argumentative, always thought he was right and was one hell of a teenager.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;Oh joy.&amp;#160; Can't wait for the teen years!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;And yes, I'll be blogging about my son soon too.&amp;#160; He wasn't feeling well the day I snapped these pics!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-5667727853290477293?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5667727853290477293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=5667727853290477293' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5667727853290477293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5667727853290477293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/06/fearless.html' title='Fearless'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3241/2590865093_0526af1ac8_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-3432600426624721015</id><published>2008-06-15T17:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T18:30:28.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My 5K</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Today I did something that I never thought I would do, but I have always wanted to.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I ran a 5K.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No, I did not run the entire duration.  But it is something I have been working up to for the past six weeks.  I know I made some mistakes, but the point, plain and simple, is that I finished.  I don't care what my time was or how many people passed me (although I had a hard time fighting that while I was running).  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I finished.  And next time I will do even better.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I realized that even though I had practiced and trained, I still didn't take different things into account.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1.  Terrain.  Most of my running is done on a treadmill, but I have tried to get outside and run because I knew it was going to be more difficult because of the pavement.  But I forgot to account for small hills.  I always forget to set the incline higher when I train and I always run on flat ground.  This I will remember the next time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2.  The sun.  Well this seems just plain silly.  The race started at 8:15am so you would think it wouldn't be that hot.....but there were some areas where I could get no shade.  And I was wearing a 3/4 length T-shirt and pants.  Probably not my best move, but I am really not comfortable running in shorts.  But perhaps I could get lighter pants and wear a short sleeved top.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3.  I think I am slightly sick.  This isn't an excuse, but the Sabrina didn't feel well the past three days and Sammy started showing big signs of it last night.  I chalked it up to nerves, but perhaps I wasn't at my best pace.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4.  Despite all warnings, I started out too fast and got too excited, hence, got winded too quickly and had to slow down.  I will try really, really hard to remedy this for next time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But you know what?  I don't care.  I am not going to beat myself up about something that I set out to do and FINISHED.  I will simply train harder and better and kick my time in the butt next time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am setting a personal goal to do another 5K at the end of July or beginning of August.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I know I will do even better!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sabrina and I before the race.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/Rachel10011/SFWtPt-3VDI/AAAAAAAAAFw/TykvLFEJZPo/s1600-h/run3%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" height="180" alt="run3" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/Rachel10011/SFWtQgfDv2I/AAAAAAAAAF0/YhmXeAN5fSM/run3_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sammy and I before the race.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Rachel10011/SFWtRIxwncI/AAAAAAAAAF4/qKY3cgXEuzI/s1600-h/run2%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" height="180" alt="run2" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/Rachel10011/SFWtR98CW_I/AAAAAAAAAF8/ohbyCw2FeU0/run2_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Finishing up!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/Rachel10011/SFWtSeZGrbI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Ml3e-159LHc/s1600-h/run1%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A huge thanks to my family that came and supported me.  And to my wonderful hubby, who has supported me always!  I love you sweetie!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-3432600426624721015?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3432600426624721015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=3432600426624721015' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/3432600426624721015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/3432600426624721015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-5k.html' title='My 5K'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://lh3.ggpht.com/Rachel10011/SFWtQgfDv2I/AAAAAAAAAF0/YhmXeAN5fSM/s72-c/run3_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-1902830711582604252</id><published>2008-05-29T18:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T18:24:26.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Of late, the twins have been fighting more over certain toys.&amp;#160; It could be something random, like a book, or it could be the other's favorite toy.&amp;#160; It's not uncommon for me to hear Sabrina's high pitched squeal or Sammy's yell over a prized possession.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Today, they were playing quite nicely.&amp;#160; I ran as fast as I could upstairs to quickly put their laundry away.&amp;#160; We have a loft that overlooks the family room, so I can continuously check on them for the five minutes I'm not with them.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;When I peeked over the edge today I saw the sweetest thing.&amp;#160; Sammy was sitting next to Sabrina, who was laying on a blanket, tummy down, just looking at him.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;He was patting her back.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I swear, these moments just kill me.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;So precious.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;So sweet.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;So innocent.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I just love moments like this.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-1902830711582604252?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1902830711582604252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=1902830711582604252' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1902830711582604252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/1902830711582604252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/05/moment.html' title='A moment'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-3955156008709454633</id><published>2008-05-29T18:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T18:24:50.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The part of motherhood I could deal without</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;There are so many things about being a mother that I love.&amp;#160; I could go on and on all day long.&amp;#160; I love the way the babies smell after a fresh bath with their lotion on.&amp;#160; I love the way each of them have their unique smile that they flash only for me.&amp;#160; I love how Sammy will wobble up to my legs and grab me all the way around as if he never wants to let go.&amp;#160; And I love how my precious daughter shares her special kisses with me.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Oh, there are so many things that I love about being a mom.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;But there is one thing that I could really deal without.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;It isn't the lack of sleep, &amp;quot;me&amp;quot; time, or craziness of the everyday.&amp;#160; It isn't the dirty diapers, loads of laundry, or constant mess.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Nope.&amp;#160; I can deal with all of that.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;What I cannot deal with is ouchies.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Boo boos, bumps, scraps, bruises, and sickness are all things I wish would never enter my children's lives.&amp;#160; And I suspect, if I'm not certain, that every mother would back me up on this.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I've said it once and I'll say it again.&amp;#160; My daughter WILL be the death of me.&amp;#160; For one, she has NO fear and I mean it.&amp;#160; She approaches any situation head on and going fast.&amp;#160; Which is why I know she is going to be my bumped up child.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;She took a pretty nasty dive on Memorial Day from the grass to the concrete sidewalk.&amp;#160; She was near running and it was on a slant and even though daddy was less then two feet behind her, it didn't matter.&amp;#160; Face first she went into the sidewalk.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;My immediate reaction?&amp;#160; A deep breath and my hands went over my eyes.&amp;#160; Then less then one second later I ran to her.&amp;#160; Jason had her and I did what I never thought I would do.&amp;#160; I grabbed her from him.&amp;#160; Sorry babe!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Though I know she was being comforted by daddy, I still wanted to hold, kiss, and hug her and let her know she was alright.&amp;#160; Daddy knew I needed to hold her more in that moment then he did, which is a testament to him not only being a wonderful father, but a husband as well.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;She had a red mark from the fall about the size of a quarter, which was on its way to healing quickly.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Until today.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Again, she moved too fast for her feet and fell again.&amp;#160; This time there were THREE adults around her and we couldn't move fast enough.&amp;#160; She recovered much more quickly than Monday.&amp;#160; In fact, it barely phased her.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;But how I wish that it barely phased me.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I can barely handle a bump and a scrap.&amp;#160; How will I make it through the bike riding, skateboarding, roller blading, football playing phases?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;With patience, persistence, band-aids, helmets, Neosporin, and my wonderful husband.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="3"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-3955156008709454633?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3955156008709454633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=3955156008709454633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/3955156008709454633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/3955156008709454633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/05/part-of-motherhood-i-could-deal-without.html' title='The part of motherhood I could deal without'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-6634412719077476531</id><published>2008-05-11T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T09:06:19.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A letter to my babies on mother's day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;My dearest Sam and Sabrina,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;Today is mother's day. It is a day that is celebrated for mother's everywhere. We, as mothers, are allowed to do whatever we choose on mother's day.....sleep late, have breakfast made for us, lounge around......or do our normal daily activities. We can do as we please on this day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;When I think about this day though, I obviously think about you two. You both made me a mother. In more than just the biological sense. Yes, you both grew in my tummy. Yes, I gave birth to you. And yes, the day of your birth was the best day of my life. But being a mother is so much more than that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;You've shown me in the last fourteen months how to love more as a person, have more patience, and enjoy more of life's simple pleasures. You both look at the world through innocent and untarnished eyes--every day is a new adventure and I get to go on it with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;A dandelion is not a weed to either of you. It is a bright, colorful stick that you can grab and put in your mouth if mommy isn't looking. Bubbles aren't just soap, they are big circles that can fly. How do they do that, you must wonder. You don't dread waking up early in the morning, you laugh and wake up with smiles. How wonderful is your life? Simply fabulous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;But as wonderful as your life is, you have made mine ten times better. I get to relive childhood innocence through both of you......look at things brand new like you do......and laugh when I wake up because I hear you both giggling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;So while I appreciate being able to sleep in on this mother's day, I really thank you for coming into the world and choosing me to be your mama. Always remember how much I loved you before you got here, love you so much right now, and will always love you forever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;Love with hugs and kisses to my little babies,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;Mama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/Rachel10011/SChoqBrqOFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/8cSQ9T8EEeg/s1600-h/twins2%20copy%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" height="169" alt="twins2 copy" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Rachel10011/SChoqxrqOGI/AAAAAAAAAFo/smJCPLGDTxU/twins2%20copy_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-6634412719077476531?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6634412719077476531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=6634412719077476531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6634412719077476531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6634412719077476531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/05/letter-to-my-babies-on-mother-day.html' title='A letter to my babies on mother&amp;#39;s day.'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://lh6.ggpht.com/Rachel10011/SChoqxrqOGI/AAAAAAAAAFo/smJCPLGDTxU/s72-c/twins2%20copy_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-523595820781884093</id><published>2008-04-28T19:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T19:47:02.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three years ago......</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;My mother passed away.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;April is a month that will never be the same for me.&amp;#160; Today is the anniversary of her death and tomorrow would have been her 52nd birthday.&amp;#160; She was so young when she passed on.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Oddly enough, today didn't hit me as hard as it had in the past.&amp;#160; I did some major grieving and reminiscing last week, so perhaps that is why.&amp;#160; One day I broke down on the phone with a close friend and just cried and cried.&amp;#160; It really helped to get some things off of my chest.......things that I had already thought I had dealt with.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I know it will never be &lt;em&gt;truly&lt;/em&gt; easy, but truly some days are &lt;em&gt;easier&lt;/em&gt;.&amp;#160; They just are.&amp;#160; I get caught up in the bustle of life, especially with the babies, and some times it isn't so hard.&amp;#160; Some times I can remember her fondly, without crying, without tears, and without pain.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;But some days are not like that.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Some days I just long for my mother.&amp;#160; Only a person who has lost a mother could understand this I think.&amp;#160; And this means so much more to me now that I am a mother.&amp;#160; I want to be held and cuddled too.&amp;#160; Of course Jason does this for me, but my mom had a mothers touch.&amp;#160; She would brush my hair back from my face or touch my nose.&amp;#160; When I was a baby she rubbed my forehead to help me get to sleep.........so I rub the babies foreheads sometimes.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;My mom was married for almost thirty years when she passed away.&amp;#160; She had two sisters and one brother.&amp;#160; In addition having me, she also had my brother Lenny.&amp;#160; She had so many people that loved her in her life and that knew her well.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;But despite all these people, I'd like to believe that I knew her best.&amp;#160; I knew when she was in pain and sorrow and I knew when she was happy.&amp;#160; I know that even though she was dealt a hard life at times, she was a survivor.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;And what she may never know is how much she really did teach me.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;When someone passes away suddenly you wonder about how much was left unsaid.&amp;#160; You question yourself, beat yourself up, grieve, and sometimes wonder &amp;quot;why?&amp;quot;&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I know that I will never get that answer in my lifetime.&amp;#160; But I also know and BELIEVE that my mother knows how much I love her.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;How much I learned from her.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;How much I miss her.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;How much I would give to have one more day.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;And so, because of my mother, I cherish every moment I have with my children.&amp;#160; I am not a perfect person or mother, but when I learn lessons, I learn them well.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;And so I say to those of you reading this, as I always do when I write about my mother--&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Give extra hugs and kisses today, love a little longer and hold each other a little tighter.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;For you truly never know when it could end.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-523595820781884093?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/523595820781884093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=523595820781884093' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/523595820781884093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/523595820781884093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/04/three-years-ago.html' title='Three years ago......'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-2015584007793773907</id><published>2008-04-20T19:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T19:30:25.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The sweetest kiss........</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Today I was on major laundry duty.&amp;#160; With Jason just getting back into town and leaving again tomorrow I had some catching up to do.&amp;#160; Add in all of the twins new summer clothes that haven't been washed, plus their normal laundry and I am backed up.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;So I was folding clothes in the family room while the babies were playing.&amp;#160; They love helping me do laundry:&amp;#160; each of them takes an article of clothing out of the basket, walks with it somewhere in the room and deposits the item and comes back for more.&amp;#160; I quit trying to get them to stop a long time ago.&amp;#160; They think they are helping mama and really, it's not a big deal.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Sammy got tired of taking clothes out of the basket and sat about five feet away from me.&amp;#160; But Sabrina, ever so diligently, continuously removed clothing from the basket.&amp;#160; On one of her rounds back to me she veered off for Sammy.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Lately they have gotten into wrestling (they both laugh hysterically) and tapping each others heads (I think they are trying to be nice, but it doesn't always come out that way).&amp;#160; So I am getting ready to break up a potential tiff.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;She sat down in front of him on her knees.&amp;#160; She crawled towards him.&amp;#160; I'm watching with curiosity, wondering what she is doing.&amp;#160; Then she half puckered, half opened her mouth and kept going in.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;She was trying to give her brother a kiss.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;In the history of sweetest things I have ever witnessed, that will be going on the top ten list.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I just love being a mama.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-2015584007793773907?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2015584007793773907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=2015584007793773907' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2015584007793773907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2015584007793773907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/04/sweetest-kiss.html' title='The sweetest kiss........'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-2363657566582367099</id><published>2008-04-17T19:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T19:30:32.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Jason is home, safe and sound, thank goodness.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;He arrived at metro around 5:00ish (am) and took a cab home.....so when he got home there was really only about 1 1/2-2 hours and then the twins would be up for the day.&amp;#160; He fell into bed, exhausted.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I had told him previously that he could get some extra sleep in and just come down and see them later.&amp;#160; So during their morning snack time, I heard daddy puttering down the stairs.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&amp;quot;Who's that?&amp;quot;&amp;#160; I asked Sam and Sabrina.&amp;#160; &amp;quot;Dada's home!&amp;quot;&amp;#160; I exclaimed.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;They both got little smiles on their faces when I said that.&amp;#160; But when they saw Jason if they could have unbuckled themselves out of their chairs and ran to them, they would have.&amp;#160; Their smiles stretched from ear to ear.&amp;#160; They were beyond excited to see their daddy.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I got Sammy out first and he clung on to Jason like he never has.&amp;#160; His head rested on his fathers shoulder and he smiled while he talked to him.&amp;#160; Sabrina was letting it known that she wanted to see her dada too.&amp;#160; &amp;quot;Dadoo!&amp;#160; Dadoo!&amp;quot;&amp;#160; she yelled.&amp;#160; She got her hugs in also and clung on to daddy.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;As we were laying them down for their morning nap not longer after, I could sense Jason's sadness.&amp;#160; He loves his job and he is providing for his family, making leaps and bounds in his career.&amp;#160; But as we were putting them to sleep he said, &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&amp;quot;You have no idea different they look.&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Sure this was hard for me, doing this pretty much alone for the past two weeks.&amp;#160; I relied on friends and family.&amp;#160; But I did feel for my sweet hubby, being away from me and his two babies.&amp;#160; He's right, they don't look different to me.&amp;#160; But I understand completely what he means.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;He was worried that they would forget who he was.&amp;#160; I think all of that was erased with the excitement they showed when they saw him and clung on to him all day long.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Welcome home, dada.&amp;#160; We missed you dearly.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-2363657566582367099?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2363657566582367099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=2363657566582367099' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2363657566582367099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2363657566582367099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/04/welcome-home.html' title='Welcome Home'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-5446997012122084267</id><published>2008-04-13T00:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T00:22:35.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;It is 3:00 AM here and I cannot sleep.&amp;#160; I have tossed and turned since going to bed a little after 11:00.&amp;#160; My mind starts to race and I start thinking about all things.&amp;#160; I need to stop.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Sabrina had her arm caught in the crib, so I took it out for her and snuggled with her a bit before putting her back to bed.&amp;#160; But now she is in bed and Sammy, and I'm still up.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;My niece is spending the night and she is tucked in sleeping also.&amp;#160; The dogs are sleeping.&amp;#160; Jason is sleeping in Seattle.&amp;#160; What gives?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;While I am up I thought I would share a cute little story.&amp;#160; As I mentioned in a previous post, the anniversary of my mom's death is nearing.&amp;#160; The month April will never be the same for me.&amp;#160; Always around this time little things start happening that make me question things.&amp;#160; I STRONGLY feel her presence.....and just weird stuff happens.&amp;#160; Like one year after her death her wedding ring that we couldn't find ANYWHERE mysteriously pops up.....one year later.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Anyhow, what happened today was more cute than weird.&amp;#160; I was coloring with Lexi after the babies went to sleep and we were drawing pictures.&amp;#160; She made one of me with a flower on one side and a tree on the other.&amp;#160; She knows I like nature.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I asked her which tree that was.&amp;#160; She replied it's your special tree planted at Gram Gram's. I told her she was right.&amp;#160; I said, &amp;quot;That's Bousha's tree.&amp;quot; (That's what she called my mom) She asked why and I told her that the year that Bousha went to heaven was the very same year the tree bloomed it's first flowers.&amp;#160; It wasn't supposed to bloom that soon--it is a Wisteria and sometimes they take years to bloom.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;So she looked at me and said, &amp;quot;Why did Bousha have to go to heaven?&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Break. My. Heart.&amp;#160; This precious, sweet, and innocent child asking the most precious, sweet, and innocent question.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I mustered all the strength I could in that moment and pulled back the tears that wanted to flow.&amp;#160; I smiled at her and said, &amp;quot;Sometimes, it's just time for people to go to heaven.&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;She was content with that.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;The truth is, I'm glad she was content with that answer.&amp;#160; Number one, I'm not her mom and I don't know how her mom would want that question answered.&amp;#160; And number two, I couldn't think that fast!&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;But that simple answer was good enough for a six year old for the time being.&amp;#160; And truth be told, sometimes, I wish I could be content with simple answers too.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;On that note, I'm going to bed.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-5446997012122084267?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5446997012122084267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=5446997012122084267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5446997012122084267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5446997012122084267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-can-sleep.html' title='I can&amp;#39;t sleep'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-5393934414938712132</id><published>2008-04-10T20:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T20:13:16.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kind people vs. rude</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I needed to pick something up at a store today, so I gave the babies an afternoon bath (we would be home late) and we were off.&amp;#160; Now going into a store might seem simple if you are childless.&amp;#160; Add one in and you have a little bit more to carry.&amp;#160; Add two and not only do you have more to carry, but there is just the plain logistics of getting them out of the car and into the store safely.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I am paranoid of kidnappers, so I have a system.&amp;#160; I get all of the stuff out and onto/into the stroller first.&amp;#160; Then I pull the stroller to one side and take out baby #1 and get baby #1 all buckled.&amp;#160; Then I pull the stroller to the other side and do the same.....although my leg is usually wrapped around the stroller to make sure no one kidnaps baby #1 while I am getting baby #2.&amp;#160; It's a grand time.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Anyway, today I got Sabrina out first.&amp;#160; Or, I was attempting to get her out.&amp;#160; Mind you, it's raining a bit.&amp;#160; A car pulls up next to me and the driver just looks at me.&amp;#160; Okay.&amp;#160; I shut the door to let her park.&amp;#160; Well, Sabrina is half way unbuckled so as soon as the woman parked I hurried up to get her.&amp;#160; The woman STILL opens her door (she can't wait ONE minute?) and makes some sort of comment as she goes.&amp;#160; What is wrong with people?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Honestly, I don't expect people to ohhh and ahhh over the babies (although most do :)).&amp;#160; I don't expect people to do me favors.&amp;#160; Heck, I don't even expect people to open the darn door when I am struggling with the double stroller.&amp;#160; I guess I just expect people to keep their comments to themselves and wait ONE minute in their WARM car so I can get my baby out.&amp;#160; Really.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;While this annoyed me, I still went on my merry way.&amp;#160; People still smiled at them and ohhhed and ahhhed over the babies.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;But later, my faith in humanity was restored.&amp;#160; As I was driving in the rain one of my windshield wipers quit working completely.&amp;#160; It was hard to see because of the rain.&amp;#160; So I pulled over to find that the wiper was removed from the thing (I do NOT know the technical name) that holds it on.&amp;#160; I tried to get the wiper back on, but it was too high....so it was essentially going OFF of the car.&amp;#160; Seriously, you should have seen me.&amp;#160; I looked like an idiot trying to pull the wiper off calling everyone I knew to help me.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I bit the bullet and asked a man nearby to help me.&amp;#160; And help me he did.&amp;#160; He pulled off the wiper, fixed it, shook my hand and wished me well getting the babies home.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;It was an act of kindness that reminded me how nice people really can be sometimes.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;It was so needed.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;So tomorrow, do something nice for someone.&amp;#160; Make it &amp;quot;Rachel's Nice Deed Day.&amp;quot;&amp;#160; Trust me, you'll make someone's day better.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-5393934414938712132?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5393934414938712132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=5393934414938712132' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5393934414938712132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5393934414938712132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/04/kind-people-vs-rude.html' title='Kind people vs. rude'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-7268827337512662019</id><published>2008-04-08T21:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T21:31:39.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tears of Joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Today, I cried tears of sadness and of joy.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Always around this time of year, I start to think more and more about my mother.&amp;#160; I think of her on a daily basis, but when it nears the anniversary of her birth and death I become more emotional, quite understandably.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I was thinking about her as I was driving home from visiting a friend.&amp;#160; A song came on the radio that has great meaning to me and when I hear it, I instantly think of my mother.&amp;#160; As I drove, happy memories flooded my head about my mom.&amp;#160; Simple memories that may have only been special to me or her......but I think those are the best sort of memories.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I glanced in my rearview--as I do about one hundred times a day with the babies in the car, and instantly my thoughts went to them not knowing my mother.&amp;#160; That made me sad and of course, the sad tears followed.&amp;#160; I didn't want to be sad today so I brushed my tears away and refocused myself.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Once at home we settled into our normal routine.&amp;#160; While dinner was finishing I was playing with the babies in the family room.&amp;#160; Sammy took about three steps just a few weeks ago, but nothing we would really count as walking.&amp;#160; He was standing next to me holding my hand and I let him walk out away from the couch.&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;In the next moment, he let go of my hand and proceeded to walk a considerable distance across the room.&amp;#160; As he was doing his wobbly walk I was screaming from the rooftops, &amp;quot;Go Sammy, GO!&amp;quot;&amp;#160; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;He had the biggest smile on his face and just kept going.&amp;#160; He really &lt;strong&gt;WALKED.&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;#160; And in that moment, a moment that only a parent could understand, I cried tears of happiness.&amp;#160; I cried for my little boy who just moved one more step away from babyhood.&amp;#160; I cried for him being so proud of himself.&amp;#160; I cried happy tears, tears of joy.&amp;#160; And I scooped him up in my arms and smothered him with kisses of&amp;#160; love and affection.&amp;#160; We of course called daddy immediately!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;He did this many more times this evening, perfecting his new skill.&amp;#160; Within an hour (and no, I'm not kidding), he figured out how to get to standing without help from a wall, couch, or person.&amp;#160; I predict it will only be a few days that he will be just as good of a walker as Sabrina.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;As I reflect on the great successes of the day, I feel JOY because even though that this might sound silly to others, I felt my mother in the family room with me today.&amp;#160; She may not ever be able to hold or kiss the babies, but she will know them, just from a different place.&amp;#160; She has already touched them, through me, in ways that she may not even know.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;So while I'm human and my tears of sadness will sometimes come, today the tears of joy prevailed.&amp;#160; And those are the tears that I &lt;strong&gt;ALWAYS&lt;/strong&gt; prefer.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-7268827337512662019?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7268827337512662019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=7268827337512662019' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/7268827337512662019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/7268827337512662019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/04/tears-of-joy.html' title='Tears of Joy'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-438691226663663378</id><published>2008-04-06T20:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T20:43:29.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sabrina.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;I dedicated an entire blog to Sammy the other day and in case anyone was wondering, of course I planned to do one for my little girl too.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;So here it is.........&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;My Sabrina.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;My Sabrina was born at 2:37 am on March 2nd, 2008.&amp;#160; She was the second born, but she was not to be outdone.&amp;#160; Her personality has shown through right since the start.&amp;#160; No one really thought she looked like me when she was born, and I agreed.&amp;#160; She seemed to have red tinted hair and none of us knew where that came from.&amp;#160; The closest person that she bore her a resemblance too was her Papa, my father.&amp;#160; I came across one of his baby pictures not too long after she was born and I thought.....&amp;quot;Oh!&amp;#160; That's who she looks like!&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 5px 75px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="260" alt="IMG_1154 (2)" src="http://lh4.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWnXqNlbI/AAAAAAAAADs/HfIKGM49KTw/IMG_1154%20%282%29%5B18%5D.jpg" width="180" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;My Sabrina, has always been independent.....I would daresay even from the womb.&amp;#160; She was on my left side during the pregnancy and every now and then she would get a little quiet.&amp;#160; I would push on my belly or move around to try and get her to kick.&amp;#160; She would give me a strong kick to the side as if to say, &amp;quot;Leave me alone already!&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWn3qNlcI/AAAAAAAAAD0/naTRXLGRLbA/IMG_1346%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 5px 65px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="180" alt="IMG_1346" src="http://lh3.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWoHqNldI/AAAAAAAAAD8/qYFzH0oo6Yc/IMG_1346_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;Her independence continued right on from birth.&amp;#160; In the beginning, she expressed this with her lungs.&amp;#160; Her very loud lungs.&amp;#160; She was not a patient girl.&amp;#160; I will always remember that her cry was so sharp and ear piercing!&amp;#160; If she needed to be fed or changed, it needed to happen within a moment or she would let us have it.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;My Sabrina will cuddle on her terms.&amp;#160; She will come to me (or daddy) when she is ready to.&amp;#160; She is not one to be pushed.&amp;#160; Oh, but she does still like to cuddle.&amp;#160; I won't tell her I shared her little secret.&amp;#160; She'll be walking by and give me a quick peck on the lips or a quick hug and be off.&amp;#160; And sometimes, when she &lt;em&gt;doesn't&lt;/em&gt; think I'm looking at her, she's looking at me......watching and observing.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWoXqNleI/AAAAAAAAAEE/mZ2Xsr7Zeu8/IMG_1865%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 5px 65px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="180" alt="IMG_1865" src="http://lh5.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWonqNlfI/AAAAAAAAAEM/d90uyB4Lt4A/IMG_1865_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;My Sabrina has a wonderful and contagious laugh.&amp;#160; If it's something she finds particularly amusing she has the biggest and best belly laugh.....one of those laughs that builds up and would make anyone else in the room laugh too.&amp;#160; She enjoys especially laughing with her Sammy.....they play peek a boo with each other......one of her favorite games.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWo3qNlgI/AAAAAAAAAEU/hglMBwksc30/gparty60copy%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 5px 65px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="180" alt="gparty60copy" src="http://lh3.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWpHqNlhI/AAAAAAAAAEc/xi9jx9H86Rw/gparty60copy_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;And in the same note, if she is feeling particularly moody and something ticks her off, she can whip up the tears as fast as she could smile.&amp;#160; The tears usually stem from Sammy stealing a toy from her or us removing her from a potentially dangerous situations.&amp;#160; She has an unusual affection for computer cords and small things on the floor that the vacuum or I have missed.&amp;#160; We're working to find her other hobbies.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWpXqNliI/AAAAAAAAAEk/9hHXJbTeYOQ/IMG_2121%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 5px 70px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="180" alt="IMG_2121" src="http://lh5.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWpnqNljI/AAAAAAAAAEs/PHUok3EoH_A/IMG_2121_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;But this week, while Sammy has been having a tough time, my Sabrina has not.&amp;#160; It's almost as if she knows that I am on my own with them.&amp;#160; She goes to sleep without issue and when Sammy has needed me she occupies herself with a toy.&amp;#160; That she can express empathy and understanding at the age of one truly boggles my mind.&amp;#160; But she does, she &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; does.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;So when I have that extra special one on one time with either one of them, I take it in a heartbeat.&amp;#160; It doesn't matter if I have laundry to do or dishes to wash.&amp;#160; I take my special moments when they come.&amp;#160; And when I put Sammy to bed tonight after she had already been down for twenty minutes, I looked over and she opened her eyes.&amp;#160; She reached up for me and I stole that moment.&amp;#160; I rocked and sang her to sleep while she held on to my neck and played with my nose.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; wanted to cuddle.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Really&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, could I ever tell her no?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;She is, after all, my Sabrina.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="Comic Sans MS" size="2"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWp3qNlkI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KC6INtt7e2I/sabbath1%20copy%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 5px 65px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="205" alt="sabbath1 copy" src="http://lh3.google.com/Rachel10011/R_mWqHqNllI/AAAAAAAAAE8/ghh7w8TasDc/sabbath1%20copy_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-438691226663663378?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/438691226663663378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=438691226663663378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/438691226663663378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/438691226663663378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-sabrina_06.html' title='My Sabrina.'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-5776304270819952956</id><published>2008-04-02T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T19:29:36.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sammy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;My Sammy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Sammy was born at 2:36 am on March 2nd, 2007. He was born first of the two and slightly bigger. Even upon birth he bore a very close resemblance to his daddy. Everyone joked that it was really Jason's head upon a little body. He had a head full of dark locks and big, beautiful, and bright blue eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q9P3qNlMI/AAAAAAAAABE/ZT8MmYLqhe4/s1600-h/IMG_1152.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184836413858616514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q9P3qNlMI/AAAAAAAAABE/ZT8MmYLqhe4/s320/IMG_1152.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;My Sammy has always been a snuggler. He is (and always has been) quite content to crawl upon my lap and let me snuggle him for as long as I need. And my dear Sammy has always been so patient.....waiting his turn if his sister needed something first. He has already shown that he is quite the gentlemen......even at the age of one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q8_nqNlLI/AAAAAAAAAA8/p_ftCv39AHw/s1600-h/IMG_1354+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184836134685742258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q8_nqNlLI/AAAAAAAAAA8/p_ftCv39AHw/s320/IMG_1354+copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Sammy though, does have a voice if something bothers him enough. If he has had enough of the carrots at lunch or wants more carrots at lunch, he'll tell you. We've been working on signs with him, but he still pretty much likes to use his outdoor voice for indoor talking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q8pXqNlKI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rBmXx3j0-bg/s1600-h/IMG_5819+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184835752433652898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q8pXqNlKI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rBmXx3j0-bg/s320/IMG_5819+copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Sammy has the biggest smile one could ever hope for from a baby. His face lights up and his mouth opens wide. Almost always, he lets out a little giggle. When this baby smiles, you can't help but smile too. A bad day can be turned around instantaneously with a smile of his. Luckily, he gives me (and daddy) as many smiles as we could ask for in a day. From the moment upon his wakening, to the moment upon sleep, he is a happy boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q8Z3qNlJI/AAAAAAAAAAs/6bJWdORvS7U/s1600-h/IMG_6872.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184835486145680530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q8Z3qNlJI/AAAAAAAAAAs/6bJWdORvS7U/s320/IMG_6872.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Up until this week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Don't get me wrong, he still is a happy boy, but since I'm a first time mom here, I have to guess. I'm guessing we are near the all-to-familiar separation anxiety. I don't know else how to explain it. Every other night he has no problem going to sleep and last night it took over an hour. He completely skipped his afternoon nap today and still didn't go to actual sleep until 9:00, and I had been holding him for close to an hour. He doesn't want to go in his high chair, eat much or be put down at all. Which would not be a problem if he was a singleton, but as well all know, he is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I think my little Sammy knows that daddy is gone( on business!). People may say that is crazy, but too many behaviors coincide and I really don't believe that this is teething. I could be wrong, but my gut tells me that he is smart enough to know that something has changed. And perhaps he has picked up on my emotions a little bit too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;In any event, I'll just keeping snuggling and loving on my sensitive little boy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;He is, after all, my Sammy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q8HXqNlII/AAAAAAAAAAk/wrH99lTF_QU/s1600-h/photogenic.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184835168318100610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q8HXqNlII/AAAAAAAAAAk/wrH99lTF_QU/s320/photogenic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2109/2273812158_e8fea06d51.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2109/2273812158_e8fea06d51.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-5776304270819952956?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5776304270819952956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=5776304270819952956' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5776304270819952956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5776304270819952956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-sammy.html' title='My Sammy.'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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://bp2.blogger.com/_eAvmWsE2YJ0/R_Q9P3qNlMI/AAAAAAAAABE/ZT8MmYLqhe4/s72-c/IMG_1152.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2999060712090658494.post-7241145903405135180</id><published>2008-04-01T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T19:27:40.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And it starts</title><content type='html'>Today the twins and I dropped Jason off at the airport today.  Of course we were both bummed.  Two weeks is a &lt;em&gt;long&lt;/em&gt; time.  After we gave him hugs and kisses I took the babies on a long ride so they could get their afternoon nap in.......we kept them up from their afternoon one so daddy could play with them just a bit longer before he had to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has had to travel for business before, but never for this long.  I'm the tough gal, with the "I can do it" attitude.  The truth is, I have to keep myself busy every second trying not to think that we haven't gotten through a whole day yet.  And with twins, keeping busy is pretty easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babe--I know you're gonna be reading this, but be forewarned--it's all about you!  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how he has only been gone a few hours, yet I am missing him so much.  After the babies went to bed (not easily tonight, I might add), I cleaned up the kitchen, tossed a load of laundry in, and was getting ready to take out the trash when I popped on here.  I feel like I don't know what to do with myself.  And like I mentioned, it's not even one full day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have to give it up to people who travel so much away from their family.  More travel is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;possibility&lt;/span&gt; in the future with his job, but we will have the option to go with him later on.  I really can't imagine having a husband in the military who would have to be away for long periods of time.  I gotta give those wives and families so much credit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that I can't do the job of taking care of the babies, dogs, and house......it just feels that a part of me is missing.  I'm a little lonely already, isn't that funny? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I better stop before I get overly emotional. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I love and miss you my hubby......my fruitcake.  (inside joke there for others wondering)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-7241145903405135180?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7241145903405135180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=7241145903405135180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/7241145903405135180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/7241145903405135180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/04/and-it-starts.html' title='And it starts'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-2998595957364308919</id><published>2008-03-31T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T20:59:02.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow</title><content type='html'>A few posts back I mentioned that after the babies were born I had some changes, one of them being a change in my memory. That rang true even today. Seriously, I had to post this because I thought it was quite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;humorous&lt;/span&gt;. And it shows that it does not only happen to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we went grocery shopping yesterday we hit Tim Horton's on the way home, although I would have preferred Starbucks. ;) So we get home and take the babies out of the car and right into their high chairs to eat dinner. While I cooked Jason put all the groceries away. We all ate dinner, then it was clean up time, and then play time before bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after the went to bed we did the normal things around the house before bedtime. No big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except, today around 6:00pm when we went out to run more errands we both got in the car and realized that our very full and untouched coffee was still in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We both just looked at each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, can I tell you how much I was looking forward to that coffee yesterday? A little extra &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;caffeine&lt;/span&gt; to help me plow through the rest of the day would have been great! I wanted it! I just find it hilarious that because we were so preoccupied with them that neither of us even remembered our full cups of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now what really has me curious is...................what the heck else have I been forgetting that there is no evidence of????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-2998595957364308919?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2998595957364308919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=2998595957364308919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2998595957364308919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2998595957364308919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/03/wow.html' title='Wow'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-812428801922707893</id><published>2008-03-30T20:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T13:14:25.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting ready</title><content type='html'>Jason will be leaving for Seattle this coming Tuesday for training with Microsoft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For. Two. Weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, we've done this before, but never for &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;that &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;long of a time.....so in preparation for that we decided to stock up on grocery items. I can and have taken the babies grocery shopping, but in reality it really is so much easier to only grab a couple of items. So this helped take some stress off of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hit two of the four stores that we needed to go to today.....usually the twins are really great...looking around at everyone, smiling, etc. And they were great, but Sabrina was a little bit fussy so I tucked her into the Mei Tei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love "wearing" them both, but sometimes they assert their independence and prefer to ride in the cart. We usually let them decide what they want to do. So Sabrina snuggled with me in her carrier, and I just ate it all up today. I know with her independence she will soon fight me and the carrier, so I take it when I can. And I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had to share that....soon she will be so big that I won't be able to fit her in it! Sammy doesn't seem to like it as much anymore anyway.....my big boy is asserting his independence too.&lt;br /&gt;So, very soon we will be missing daddy. Most everyone that loves us had called/emailed to offer any support that I will need in the coming days. It really helps to know that people care for you and offer help when you need it most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the people that know me best have told me not to act like superwoman and to ask for help when I need it. :) People know me too well sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I am off, does anyone know how to do emoticons on blogger? Or I am stuck with the regular smile and sad faces????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-812428801922707893?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/812428801922707893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=812428801922707893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/812428801922707893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/812428801922707893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/03/getting-ready.html' title='Getting ready'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-4635939130360417202</id><published>2008-03-27T17:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T17:40:32.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My head would fall off</title><content type='html'>If it wasn't connected to my body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;swear&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; this is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was feeding the babies their afternoon snack.  While they were snacking, I decided to cook up some rice for me to eat.  So, I gave them their snack, boiled the rice and water, turned it on low and went to entertain the babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was very close to their nap time so after their snack I took them upstairs and laid them down to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now nap time for mommies is a rush of trying to get things done.  Well, for me it is anyway!  So I am putting things away in the kitchen, dishes, etc.  I decided to check my email real quick.  Then I go back to the kitchen to finish up some stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smell something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the rice on the stove while it was still cooking.  For a good solid forty minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rice went down the drain and a peanut butter sandwich took it's place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn't be allowed to use the stove anymore.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-4635939130360417202?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/4635939130360417202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=4635939130360417202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/4635939130360417202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/4635939130360417202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-head-would-fall-off.html' title='My head would fall off'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-5631772995737337156</id><published>2008-03-26T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T12:23:13.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Since having the babies</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Since have the babies I apparently have developed some odd habits, particularly night time ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snoring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snoring so loudly that Jason had to go sleep on the couch the other night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't 100% believe him, as most people that snore rarely admit it. But how would I know anyway? I did not snore before the babies came, unless I had a really bad cold. But I did moan in my sleep when I got pregnant. Now any of you with dirty minds stop right there.....it was an annoying kind of moan, like humming over and over again. I do actually remember doing that a few times because it woke me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this made me think about all the changes that have happened since I got pregnant and since I know no one else is keeping count but me......here are the big changes that have happened to my body, mind, and spirit since having the little ones. I would consider these changes to be a combination of good, odd, and well.....just wonderful. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;**A super fantastic sense of smell......this started when I was pregnant. Jason coined this "Prego Super Power Number One" because I could smell everything and anything that came within a five mile radius to me. And it usually made me nauseous. Okay, so I might be exaggerating there, but you get the drift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**A super fantastic sense of hearing...........I could hear anything. Which did not mean good things in an argument for Jason.....if anything was said under the breath I heard it anyway! But I could pick up sounds that he couldn't always hear unless he was closer. Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Feet growth! I swear from the moment of conception to the moment of birth my poor feet more than doubled in size. Seriously. At the end of my pregnancy when I went in for my appointments, the nurses would give me the most sympathetic look that you could ever give a pregnant woman. I will never, &lt;strong&gt;EVER&lt;/strong&gt; be able to put into words what my feet and ankles looked like. Imagine Lake Michigan......retained in my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**The aforementioned sleep issues. The moaning, where did that come from? It wasn't great because it interrupted even my sleep, which I was desperately trying to save up in the form of a savings account. It didn't matter in the end, but I have no idea what that was about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**The ummmmm, extra baggage around my middle. I won't be gross or anything, but let's just say there is way more than I would ever need. Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**My loss of memory. This is totally true and I would change this one even before my weight. I can't remember squat anymore! I've invested in a planner again because if I don't write it down, it might not happen. And I am as anal retentive as they come in regards to being on time, making appointments, and so on. This is not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**My ability to cry at the drop of a hat. Usually, it is because a baby is around or on a movie screen. I don't cry at my own, unless they do something incredibly sweet (an everyday occurrence) or any of the following: was born, first cry, first smile, first roll over, first word.....oh you get it! I'm a &lt;strong&gt;MAMA&lt;/strong&gt;! My point is that other babies make me cry sometimes too! They are just too precious and remind me of how sweet this time is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But out of all these things, the biggest and best change that has ever happened to me is..............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sam and Sabrina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I would have gained another 70 pounds, sold all my old normal size shoes and gave up my super prego powers to have them over again in a heartbeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have changed my life for the better in so many ways that they will never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to my dear and loving husband, snoring just may be a new part of me. But it came with a package deal with the babies. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-5631772995737337156?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5631772995737337156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=5631772995737337156' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5631772995737337156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/5631772995737337156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/03/since-having-babies.html' title='Since having the babies'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-3315477888800305343</id><published>2008-03-24T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T18:42:14.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two walkers??</title><content type='html'>Before putting the babies to bed tonight, we were all playing in the family room....as is part of our nightly ritual. Sabrina has mastered walking completely now, so as she was strutting her stuff around the room, Jason and I were playing the walking game with Sammy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would face him towards Jason and hold him, trying to let him walk and normally he jumps right down. Today though, he took a couple of steps towards daddy. Of course we started clapping and yelling for Sammy. Sabrina chimed right in and started clapping for him also. He got so excited when Jason turned him around to me his little legs were already trying to walk. As he came towards me, he again walked a couple of steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played this game for a few minutes more (he was getting sleepy) and he was SO excited! He just kept laughing his little laugh. And it was so cute that Sabrina watched near a chair......it was like she knew that she had already mastered this and let him have his moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know she probably didn't know exactly what she was clapping at, except that we were excited about something. But it was so sweet and precious to see her cheering her big brother on (older by one minute) as he was learning to walk. She must have forgot that ten minutes earlier he was trying to give her love and knocked her over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The joys of toddlerhood. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-3315477888800305343?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3315477888800305343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=3315477888800305343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/3315477888800305343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/3315477888800305343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/03/two-walkers.html' title='Two walkers??'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-3557382898719711173</id><published>2008-03-20T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T18:16:11.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My babies are growing up.................</title><content type='html'>Tonight, as I was cleaning up the kitchen after putting the babies to bed, I had a "moment". Tonight, I washed and cleaned their formula dispensers that I have taken with us for the past year on errands, doctors appts., and such. Obviously, if the babies ever needed a bottle I could whip out one of these dispensers, fill a bottle, and feed a hungry baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also took down and washed the two bottle racks that have been sitting on the right side of my sink for the past year. You see, we were trying to slowly wean Sam and Sabrina off of their bottles, one week at a time. We didn't want them to feel rushed in any way, so we started with the after dinner bottle, then the plan was to take away the bottles for lunch, breakfast, and finally, night time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But somehow, over the past week, both of them have decided that they no longer need the bottle except the night time one. I would make it and they refused. Their sippies (and real food) were enough for them finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight, instead of washing everything and putting it back into the proper places......I will be putting them away for good. And it made me a little sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds silly, doesn't it? That something so trivial, that most people would be jumping in joy over, saddens me. My babies are growing up. True, they are still babies, but this is only the beginning of them growing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have treasured every moment of this past year. Even the hard ones. People would tell me, "They grow up so fast!" But I already knew this. I knew that the sleepless nights would end so that never really bothered me. I knew that one day Sammy wouldn't want me to pick him up, so I held him (and still do) every chance I could. And I knew the same for Sabrina, that her flair for independence would shine through one day and she would realize that she doesn't need her mama as much as she used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, those days seem a long way off. But I'm smart enough to know that kindergarten really isn't that far away.....so I treasure the precious &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;simple&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; moments that make up our day. And those baby bottles, while simple, made up a big part of our day.....and I will actually miss them.&lt;br /&gt;And oh how I dread the day when I don't get to cuddle and rock my babies to sleep at night. Some would say that we have spoiled them.....and to that I would answer..........................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hell yes, we have."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buh bye baby bottles. And hello to a new year full of great, precious, and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;simple&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; moments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-3557382898719711173?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3557382898719711173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=3557382898719711173' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/3557382898719711173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/3557382898719711173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-babies-are-growing-up.html' title='My babies are growing up.................'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-2686319672619707257</id><published>2008-03-17T17:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T18:05:32.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A walk back in time........................</title><content type='html'>Dinner is cooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The twins are sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house is clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the heck????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, while I have a moment, I have to share something. Jason and I met for lunch today and while I was driving the twins home, I passed a movie theater in Westland. We saw it last week also, and I can’t believe I forgot to blog about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our old movie theater is now closed down. Westland Showcase Cinema’s had a sign on the marquee thanking the patrons of Westland for their business. It almost made me want to tear up a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the theater that I first went to went I was a child. I remember when it was built! It was before the days of stadium seating (which I actually enjoy). I remember getting dropped off at the movies with my bff Carrie and taking in a show. I remember first meeting boys there to see a movie. And, as I got older.....I remember when I got my license I could DRIVE there....it was the happening place to see a movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t actually believe that it is closed down, although it doesn’t truly surprise me. With Emagine theater just in Canton and a huge AMC in Livonia, I guess it really was only a matter of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it felt kind of sad to drive by and momentarily reminisce. I can’t believe that I am now actually old enough to remember when something was built and now watch it close down.&lt;br /&gt;One day, I’ll be driving down Wayne road and the twins will be 16. Then I’ll say, "Kids, that’s where me and your dad used to go to the movies. I remember when they closed that place down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then they will roll their eyes at me and say, "Yeah mom, and I bet you had to walk 10 miles in the snow without boots on to go to it. Quit boring us with stories from your youth."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhhhh, to be young again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A note: I can only imagine that this does not bode well for Westland at all. These are the new stores just built in Canton recently:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Target, Old Navy, Kohl’s, JC Penney, Borders, Bath n’ Body Works....just to name a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope Westland thinks of something new soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-2686319672619707257?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2686319672619707257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=2686319672619707257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2686319672619707257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/2686319672619707257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/03/walk-back-in-time.html' title='A walk back in time........................'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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-2999060712090658494.post-6903157744485095975</id><published>2008-03-11T23:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T18:12:23.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forever Ago</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time, I had time to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems I do not have that time any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, I love the twins more than words will ever express (and that is usually who I write about anyway), but at the end of the night, I am truly exhausted. It seems all I can do is tidy up the kitchen and dishes, check some online stuff, work on any pics if I have them, and I am so ready for bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are pure joy, but exhausting at times! Especially more so lately......I believe they are reaching the peak of seperation anxiety--which means leaving them for a moment to go to the bathroom, grab a load of laundry, etc......sometimes doesn't happen because they don't want to see me go......even for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How wonderful it is to be loved that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since they have been born, they have shown us their unique personalities. Sabrina, even one week old, had a fierce cry that could shatter glass. Sammy was always the more patient and willing one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh, how this rings true today. Sabrina is full of emotion, more so lately than ever. If she wants it and can't have it she starts to cry.....then looks for the reaction. "Do I have them wrapped?" I can hear her thinking this in her head. And she does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we were shopping at Target and she wanted out of the cart.....so I took her out while we were in the aisle and held her. But she wanted DOWN. So, for a brief moment (Jason had Sammy) I let her walk around the aisle.....but when it was time to move, I picked her up. Um, no.....the girl was not having it. She has NEVER thrown a tantrum in a store--ever! And it probably wasn't really a tantrum--but I had to do something to distract her so I started dancing with her right in the aisle. That calmed her. And then she realized she wanted down again. Yeah, it was time for us to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my Sammy. I love both of them so much, but he is totally a mama's boy. He will crawl right up in my lap and snuggle with me......she does it too, but he does more often. He loves to cuddle. He is not quite there on the walking yet, but he gets where he needs to go by crawling ultra fast--we call him turbo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so funny how they both have their little quirks and we can watch it on a daily basis. I think Sabrina is nearing the point where she doesn't want me to feed her anymore, yet she knows when something is pureed, so she'll let me feed her then. Sammy will eat by himself, but it's like he knows it's easier if mama gives it to him. So cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't believe that just a little over a year ago we brought home two babies that weighed just over six pounds each. Now Sammy is a little over 23 lbs. and she a little over 18 lbs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't believe how fast they have grown............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much I love them............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much I miss them when they are away from me........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how much I truly do love being a mom.........even if it barely gives me time to write.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2999060712090658494-6903157744485095975?l=ssmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6903157744485095975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2999060712090658494&amp;postID=6903157744485095975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6903157744485095975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2999060712090658494/posts/default/6903157744485095975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ssmama.blogspot.com/2008/03/forever-ago.html' title='Forever Ago'/><author><name>Sambrina's Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07449076298441941589</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>
